Redemption
by ERed
Summary: A bloody and violent past haunts Jennifer Trevelyan; something she had gone to great lengths to lock away and ignore. But in an effort to begin reconciling herself with an estranged family, she agrees to represent them at the Conclave, putting her on a path that would force her to confront who she had been and what she wished to become. A retelling of DA:I.
1. Chapter 1

It was all she could do to keep running. As she did, she squinted through the darkness at the glowing figure on the hill ahead that she was frantically making her way towards. An emerald glow surrounded her as she climbed as fast as possible, the dust swirling into her eyes. Her shoulder length black hair kept falling across her face, constantly causing her to push it out of her eyes. Then, she heard it.

A noise that filled her with dread. A clicking, scratching noise. Unable to stop herself, she whirled around to see that she was being followed by countless giant spiders. Terror gripped her; her foot slipped in her haste and she scrabbled on her hands and knees as fast as she could.

The figure had bent towards her now, the light was so bright she still couldn't make out the persons face, but now she was close, she thought that perhaps she was a woman. Desperately she reached out for the strangers offered hand. The spiders were so close now that she could smell their characteristic chemical odour caused by their venom— she daren't look back. Just a bit further!

Willing herself onwards she realised her own hand was glowing. Not the pure white of the one offered to her, but a sickly green. It glowed even brighter, so bright that Jen couldn't see. She grasped the hand of the glowing woman. Then… nothing.

Everything hurt. She grimaced against the pain as she tried to stretch her arms, but something was stopping her. There was a clink of metal and slowly but surely she opened her eyes. As she tried to focus on her surroundings Jen realised the reason for this: her wrists were bound with iron manacles. Panic began to rise through her, her breathing became faster – haggard, as Jen deduced where she was. The manacles and the iron bars to the side of her made it painfully obvious. She was in a cell.

As though sensing her nervousness her left hand began to throb, then flashed brightly green with a crackle. In fright she jumped and swayed on the chair she was bound to which caused the the guards she hadn't noticed to draw their swords and pointed them at her in unison. Then, the sounds of footsteps and bang! The wooden door in front of her was thrown open.

Two women entered with purpose, striding over to her quickly. They clearly held power over the guards because they sheathed their swords immediately at a nod from the first woman and saluted smartly. The first woman circled behind her so Jen couldn't see her face, but the second came forward with intent, stepping into the centre of the torchlit area in front of Jen. What little Jen could see of the woman under her lilac hood showed a pointed, pretty face and red hair which framed a very serious expression. Bewildered, Jen stared up at her.

"Tell me why we shouldn't kill you now!" demanded the woman behind her with a strong Nevarran accent. Jen's neck cricked as she tried to turn against her bindings to see the second woman. As she strode into view Jen recoiled. The woman was incredibly stern looking with her close cropped black hair, pointed face and high cheekbones which were adorned with a scar on each side. She was tall and imposing, but it wasn't that which Jen was instantly wary of. It was the way the woman's hand rested ever so casually on the hilt of her sword, the terrible anger in her eyes and the battle scuffed armour she wore, complete with an eye emblazoned over the breastplate. A Seeker.

"The conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead. Except for you." The seeker circled round to face her, staring at her accusingly.

The conclave? Jen thought that sounded familiar… she had been told to go there. Her head felt sluggish as she tried to remember more.

The Seeker was studying her, expecting Jen to speak. When she did not, the Seeker grabbed Jen's arm pulling it upwards and causing Jen to yelp in pain. The green mark flared again.

"Explain this?"

"I— can't." Jen stuttered.

"What do you mean you can't."

I don't know what that is… or how it got there."

You're lying!" The seeker grabbed the front of Jen's coat in her fury.

"We need her, Cassandra." The other woman pulled Cassandra away from Jen, and turned.

Jen felt lost. She had no idea what she was doing here, her memory felt incomplete– illusive and on top of that, her hand would not stop throbbing angrily. The conclave– she was to attend the conclave. Those people. They were all dead, that was the seeker Cassandra had said. Did that mean then— surely not? The Divine could not be dead. But then, wasn't it true that the Right Hand of the Divine was a seeker. She glanced up at Cassandra. It came back to her then. The Right Hand of the Divine is a seeker and is called Cassandra Pentaghast. That must mean that the other woman, her accent Orlesian, is the Left Hand Leliana. The Nightingale. That also meant that Jen was in considerably more trouble than she first realised.

Both Leliana and Cassandra turned back towards her and Jen felt her confidence return now that she knew who she was being interrogated by. They didn't know her, and if she didn't know what had caused her hand to be marked, or what it meant, Jen was sure that neither of the two women did either. And yet, they said that they needed her. Interesting.

"Whatever you think I did, I'm innocent." Jen stated calmly, looking up at them defiantly. Cassandra looked taken aback by the sudden change in Jen's countenance. Leliana was guarded however, which was to be expected given that Jen had heard Leliana was a master of secrets and a superb player of the game.

"Do you remember what happened? How this began?" Enquired Leliana cooly.

"I remember—running. Spiders chasing me, and then…" Jen paused for a moment trying order the jumble of memories that didn't seem to run coherently. "A woman?"

"A woman?" Leliana repeated, allowing her own confusion to be detected by Jen for the first time.

"Yes. She reached out to me, but then…"

Cassandra took Leliana by the arm and pulled her towards the door.

"Go to the forward camp Leliana." So she definitely is Leliana. Jen thought with satisfaction as Leliana nodded and headed out.

"I will take her to the rift." Cassandra called after her. Jen's brow furrowed at Cassandra's words. Rift? What rift?

To Jen's surprise Cassandra began to unlock the manacles binding her hands.

Despite herself, Jen found herself asking "What did happen?"

Meeting Cassandra's dark brown eyes this time didn't cause Jen to recoil. The anger they had shown seemed tempered, replaced by a hopelessness and perhaps grief.

"It– will be easier to show you." Cassandra sighed. She rebound Jen's hands with rope this time and lead her down the dark corridor out of the cell.

It was not the first time that Jen had been bound and found herself completely in the power of another. And not in the fun way, either, she thought wryly. In fact, as Jen mused she realised that she had lost count. Her life had always been complicated and she had learnt how to use what little she had to get by.

In her younger years her own stupidity or that of another would have caused her to be captured, but as she grew older, she learned the value of the unexpected. That sometimes, the best way to get close enough to a target was to make that target think that she was beaten. To let them take her bound into their halls and from there, where they thought it would be impossible and therefore became complacent: she would strike.

Absentmindedly picking at the knots on the rope, Jen wondered why she was following the Seeker outside, when if she wished she could be free of her bonds in seconds. Bright white light blinded her as Cassandra threw open the door, causing Jen to scrunch up her eyes. She heard the crunch of the Seekers boots in the still falling snow. If she wanted to escape, now was the time. She could see herself in her minds eye, quickly removing the ropes then catching Cassandra from behind with a blow to the head.

But she didn't, she chose to follow the Seeker forward. Her hand was still throbbing. Jen needed more information. Also she had to admit, she was curious as to what could cause a Seeker to look so hopeless. She doubted that it would be good news.

Then she saw it, whatever it was. A vast green tear in the sky, with clouds ripped around it in greater ferocity than any storm Jen had ever seen.

"We call it the breach." Cassandra stated, hopelessness entering her voice again. Jen could not tear her eyes away, the great wrongness of what she was seeing— it should not be possible.

"It is a massive rift into the world of the demons that grows larger with every passing hour. It is not the only such rift, just the largest. All were caused by the explosion at the conclave."

That made no sense to Jen, it was clear to her from the appearance of the breach that a great magic must have caused it.

"An explosion did that?"

"This one did. And it continues to grow."

A ripple of bright green light emanated from the breach, crackling like a terrible thunder.

Pain. An awful pain flowed through Jen and she grunted as she felt to her knees in the snow. Her arm was drawn upwards like a magnet, towards the breach. The mark on her hand glowed brighter. Sweating, she grimaced as she felt the mark spreading up her arm, feeling as though her skin was being branded with white hot irons. Vision blurred, Jen didn't see Cassandra move towards her until she felt the Seeker's gloved hand on her shoulder, trying to steady her.

Panting, Jen tried to stumble back to her feet as the pain abated, but Cassandra strengthened the grip on her shoulder. She held Jen in place easily, her gaze piercing Jen as though deciding whether she should tell her what she was about to say.

Holding Jen's gaze, Cassandra apparently made her decision because she said, in a softer tone than she had used thus far. "Each time the breach expands, your mark spreads. It—it is killing you."

Ah. Now at least, she was glad that she hadn't incapacitated Cassandra and made her escape. She looked down at the mark, it still throbbed painfully. Cassandra was right, it had spread further. This wasn't something that Jen could ignore. Well, she could, but she would rather not die in agony from some unknown magic.

"Is there anything that can be done?" Asked Jen nervously.

"We can only guess, but my advisors believe that the best chance you have is to use the mark to seal the breach. Do that and the link will be severed."

"But I am no mage." Jen stated. "I know nothing about magic and even less about how to use it."

Cassandra pulled Jen to her feet. "That may be true, but I have a particular colleague who is knowledgable in this area and who we are hopeful that they may be able to assist you. Come now, I know you have no choice, but the breach does need to be closed and you are the only one who has any chance of doing it."

Jen had to resist rolling her eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

**Four Years Previously**

It was a quiet night. Jen sat crosslegged on the leather pelt she had brought with her, contemplating the flames of her small fire while listening intensely. She was waiting for a contact of hers in the wilderness, 10 miles east of Kirkwall. The news she had received from the city was not good, as seemed to be the norm of late. Tensions between mages and Templars were growing again. Nothing significant as of yet, but something to keep an eye on. Jen was not prepared to let a potential threat to her business go unnoticed. It always paid to keep tabs on any change. She may be able to work the situation to her advantage after all.

There was a crack of a breaking twig behind her, accompanied by a short intake of breath. Slowly she turned her head.

"Ser Roderick, you will have to do better than that if you expect to sneak up on me."

The young Templar blushed and had the grace to look abashed, but his blue eyes, as they often did, twinkled with excitement. His eyes had been the feature that had first drawn Jen to him. They were a deep royal blue that complimented his coal black hair and strong jaw.

"Anyway, what news do you have for me? Will my plan work?"

"Always straight to business Jen," he observed smiling as he sat down next to her.

"Professional as always Roderick," retorted Jen, but she found her stern expression cracking into a grin as she looked at him.

"You know me. And yes," he pulled a roll of parchment from the pack he had set down next to him. "Here," she took it and unfurled it; the more she read, the more her grin grew. She read through the neatly written lists excitedly, everything she had requested was detailed.

"So this column," she ran her thumb along the first list, "details all of the men who have been bribed?" Roderick nodded.

"And this one, shows which guard rotations will be missing because of our new friends failing to turn up?" Again he nodded in assent.

"Excellent Roderick," she replied, trying to hide exactly how important this information was to her. She liked Roderick a lot and she couldn't have asked for a more helpful insider into the Kirkwall circle, but he didn't know her main purpose. He believed that she had been hired by rebel mages to break some of their fellows out of the circle; that was after all was true. Roderick was secretly sympathetic to the mages plight, something that she had been careful to look out for in a Templar whilst planning this particular job.

What he didn't know was that in addition to aiding the escape of the mages, Jen had been hired to cause chaos in the circle. And the way that her rebel employers had paid her to do it was to murder a particular mage who was unsympathetic to their cause, and make it look as through a Templar had done it. This after all was what she did, she thought wryly. She had certain skills that she had learnt in order to survive, skills that anyone with money could exploit.

"Jen?" he asked, looking amused.

"What?"

Breaking from her revery she slipped her hand around the crook of his elbow to distract him. It worked as she knew it would, he blushed again looking nervous and shifted slightly. Roderick was an easy man to read, but Jen found with him that she enjoyed the reaction she could coax from him. Many of her previous 'relationships' had been tactical decisions, using her talents to manipulate the individual to her own ends. Something she usually had success with.

Certainly there had been times in the past when she would have no choice but to result to using her body to achieve her goals, and often she hadn't minded as she viewed it as sex. Nothing more. Indeed she had often used those encounters to sate her own desires. Roderick however… Jen found herself wanting to seduce him even though she didn't need to. That was something that hadn't happened to her before. Shit, she knew she had to be careful.

"You– looked as though something was troubling you, that's all?" Roderick questioned.

"How old are you Roderick?" Jen couldn't help herself but ask.

"Twenty. Why?" Three years younger Jen thought… hopefully old enough to have some experience — stop thinking that!

"I just wondered how similar in age you were to me, that's all." Then, in an attempt to distract herself, she asked. "How are things in Kirkwall's circle now Roderick? I have heard it has become even more strict than even when we last spoke."

His countenance became serious again."The mages— they have it even tougher than before. I assume you can tell from the list that guard rotations have increased?" he asked frustratedly.

She nodded.

"That was because of a breakout two months previously. Ugh, I shouldn't say breakout, it makes the place sound like a prison." He ran his fingers through his hair distractedly.

"Anyway. They escaped and orders came from above that we are to increase our patrols and become even more strict with discipline if any mage was found not to be towing the line. I heard it from Knight-Captain Cullen himself. I respect the man, but sometimes–" He stopped abruptly looking slightly abashed.

"Forgive me, I shouldn't be ranting at you."

Jen, however, wanted to know his opinion on his fellow Templars. Particularly his superiors. Information was power after all, and the situation in Kirkwall was intriguing.

"I like hearing you speak with such purpose Roderick. It is refreshing. I feel like I live in the shadows too much at the moment, where no one says what they actually think." She smiled at him, running her fingers up and down his forearm absentmindedly. He slowly began to relax into her touch. Roderick thought she was a mage sympathising mercenary with links to smuggling gangs; technically she had told him the truth, just not the whole truth.

He looked around surreptitiously, as though he thought that somewhere in the wood surrounding them there might be another Templar who would report him.

"Cullen, well. I believe he is a good man and a good Knight-Captain. His strategy is always sound and whenever he leads a group of us he makes sure that we are well prepared for the task. Also he likes to get to know those of us at the lower ranks through to the top, which I and many of the others respect." He frowned a little, "This is just between us though Jen? If my opinions became known I could get in a lot of trouble. I—forgive me, but though I like you I have only known you two months. I'm not sure I should trust you with anything about my superiors." Roderick looked away from her.

He seemed so conflicted and Jen realised that, surprisingly, she wanted to help him. To soothe him. "Roderick, please look at me." Slowly she raised her hand to his face, placed it on his cheek and turned his head towards her. Their eyes met.

"I know we have not known each other long and I know that I am a mercenary, giving you every right to be cautious. But— I have found that I— I am beginning to care for you. Let me help if I can." She watched Roderick's eyes widen, he seemed taken aback, but then the corners of his mouth began to curl in a small smile. Jen was in turmoil, though none of it showed on her face. The reason being that she had just realised with a jolt that she actually meant those words. She did care for him and what was more, her heart was racing.

"Thank you for telling me that. I had hoped I wasn't imagining the signs." He murmured softly. "I do trust you Jen." He wrapped one of his strong arms around her shoulders and this time it was Jen relaxing at his touch. She felt safe there with him, she realised numbly.

"All I was going to say," Roderick continued, "was that Cullen sometimes follows the rules too stringently. It's as though something happened to him which caused him to doubt himself and because of that often he chooses to follow blindly, rather than do things his way. I know rank is important, but if your superior is Meredith." He said her name in a scathing tone. "You should question her bias against the mages a little more sometimes. We are there to help them, not imprison them and cause them to fear themselves. But that is contrary to the culture my dear Knight-Commander likes to breed and why I chose to help you— I fear for the mages safety, especially the young ones. They can't help being born with magic."

Jen moved forward, then before she knew it, she was kissing him fiercely. Roderick responded enthusiastically, placing his hands on her hips. The passion in his words had given Jen the courage to act and forget herself. Forget that she couldn't commit to a Templar no matter how wonderful she found him. Her work wouldn't allow it. But as she pulled him down onto the pelt and quickly loosened the buckles on his armour, she found she didn't care. She wanted him badly and couldn't help herself.

Forgetting who she was as their mouths crashed together, she forgot for now that after this job he may well end up despising her.

* * *

 **Present Day**

"You are from Ostwick, no? The Free Marches?" Cassandra asked to break the silence. They had been walking for half an hour now towards the forward camp, having encountered a few demons here and there. At first Cassandra had refused to untie Jen, trying to fight the demons on her own. Jen had been impressed with the Seeker's skills, she was clearly a talented with the sword and shield, but even she couldn't fight four off at once while trying to protect another.

Eventually Jen had been forced to slip out of her bonds and grab the sword of a fallen soldier to defend herself. She could tell that Cassandra had noticed the ease with which she had escaped her bonds, but after Jen had shouted angrily at her and proven her worth as a fighter, Cassandra had begrudgingly allowed her to remain untied.

"Yes, originally but I spent most of my youth away from there. I only lived in Ostwick until I was ten. I have only been back a few times since."

"But you are a Trevelyan? Were you sent to serve as a lay sister in the Chantry or train as a Templar? I know your family claim to be very devout." It seemed Cassandra was very to the point. Normally if someone discovered her surname they skirted around it, but then, Cassandra didn't know her reputation in less civilised circles. Nor did she ever give that name anymore. She would have asked how Cassandra knew it, but then she had been presented to the Conclave as a representative of house Trevelyan.

"I am a Trevelyan, yes." Jen struggled to hide the venom she felt at that name.

"Where were you then? Why weren't you living in Ostwick?" Cassandra asked. It seemed that she definitely didn't trust Jen yet, so perhaps it would be worth telling the truth. At least some of it. If she was going to need Cassandra's help to prevent the mark from killing her, it would be worth it. Besides, she was tired of living in a world of lies and deception. That had been part of the reason she had attended the Conclave in the first place.

Jen sighed. She was beginning to feel uncomfortably warm in her scout coat and wiped the sweaty strands of her black hair away from her forehead.

"I was, for a long time, disowned from house Trevelyan."

Jen could tell that was not what the Seeker had been expecting her to say.

"But why?" Cassandra was intrigued now, Jen thought despondently.

"My father and my uncle fell out not long after I was born. I still don't know exactly what happened, but once my grandfather died, my uncle became head of the family and called in my father's debts. He was a typical nobleman, not careful with money— why would he need to be? He was ruined and then to add further insult, when he went to my uncle requesting aid, my uncle claimed that my father's debts had brought our house into disrepute. He banished him, and me— my mother. Well, tried to banish my father anyway. He took his own life the night before we were due to leave." Jen said in an distant voice. She hated thinking of her parents.

"I am sorry," mumbled Cassandra, with the air of someone who struggled to know how to react to delicate matters.

"Don't be, I hate my uncle, but even then when I must have only been nine or ten at most, I was beginning to dislike the way my family believed they were superior. I have had more freedom this way." Cassandra nodded with greater warmth this time. The Seeker seemed to pause to study her for a moment with a slight smile playing on her lips before they continued their climb.

They finally reached the top of the hill and below was a fortified bridge.

"Is that the forward camp?" Jen asked pointing.

Cassandra nodded. "Quickly now, Leliana will be waiting for us."

As they followed the winding track down the hill towards the forward camp, Cassandra held her hand up for Jen to stop.

"Do you hear that?" The Seeker asked.

"No, wh—" there was a loud crash that echoed up the hill towards them, a crash of metal on metal, then a bang which was so powerful they felt the vibration it caused underfoot.

"Follow me!" shouted Cassandra as she unsheathed her sword and broke into a run. As they made their way around the bend in the track, they came to a clearing in the trees. Ahead of them Jen counted three demons fighting two soldiers, a dwarf wielding a crossbow and a baldheaded elven mage. Floating above them all was a crackling green rift, which caused Jen's hand to begin throbbing as the mark began to shine brighter, reacting to the presence of the rift.

Throwing herself into the fight Jen watched again the grace and poise of the Seeker as she took the first demon by surprise with a powerful blow which forced it to the ground, then buried her sword in its neck. With a shout the dwarf covered her, quickly dispatching the second demon in a flurry of bolts.

The elven mage upon having seen Cassandra's entrance whirled around, eyes widening as they fell on Jen stood at the edge of the fight, her left hand clutched to her chest as it spasmed painfully. She tried to unsheathe her sword and join the fight, but the cold sweat breaking out over her skin caused her hand to slip on the hilt. Closing the distance between them quickly, the elf grabbed her left arm in a strong grip and raised it up towards the rift. As he did so, Jen felt the pressure ease and a jet of green light was emitted from it, striking the rift and within seconds the rift exploded as though rent from the air.

"What did you do?" asked Jen breathlessly as he released her.

"I did nothing," replied the elf, "the credit is yours."

"But, how?"

"I believe that whatever magic opened the breach in the sky also caused the mark on your hand." His voice carried the melodic quality of the Dalish elves, but the accent was different. He also lacked the facial tattoos characteristic of the Dalish. She studied him surreptitiously; he was tall and thin with a pointed chin and carried himself with confidence.

Pulling himself from his revery, the elf straightened and held out his hand which Jen took. "I am Solas, an apostate."

Jen raised her eyebrows and glanced at Cassandra. "I'm surprised you let an apostate join you freely, Lady Seeker?"

"Solas volunteered to join us in uncertain times and is an expert in magic regarding the fade; something we need to know much more about given the current situation," replied Cassandra shortly. "I am capable of being pragmatic Trevelyan."

Jen nodded in approval as the dwarf, who was approaching after finishing the last demon, grunted sceptically earning him a scathing glare from the Seeker. Jen could tell that he had seen it because a slight smile played on his lips as he said "Varric Tethras, loveable rogue and owner of the the most voluptuous chest hair in Thedas!"

His chest hair certainly was thick, thought Jen as she studied Varric. He had fair hair pulled back into a ponytail, a square jaw and powerful shoulders. Several rings pierced his ear lobes and a couple of rings decorated his right hand. And the aforementioned chest hair was displayed proudly by the Carta coat he wore.

"Pleased to meet you both. I'm Jennifer, or Jen, whichever," she said. "Please tell me that one of you knows what is going on with my hand and how I can stop it? You see, dying isn't really my plan at present," she stated dryly.

Varric smiled and clapped her on the back, "I think I'm going to like you Jen."

They walked on together and as they did Solas explained that closing the breach would stabilise the magic in her mark.

A group of about thirty soldiers and scouts guarded the entrance to the bridge. As Jen passed them by she could hear them whispering, their eyes weighing her up and some didn't even bother to conceal their anger.

"They all hold you to account for the explosion at the conclave," explained Cassandra in her Nevarran drawl. "What other explanation could be drawn when you lived and most holy— so many of their colleagues fell. By sealing the breach, you may regain their trust in time."

In time. Their judgement weighed on Jen heavily. She had no idea what had happened to her, she still couldn't remember whether she had done something that may have caused the explosion, but she doubted it. To travel as a representative of her family and begin to heal the rift between them was not something she took lightly. How dare they accuse her! The did not know her. She couldn't help but clench her fists as she walked by them.

They passed through the wooden doors into the dark gatehouse. Solas and Varric moved off ahead, Varric muttering something about needing to acquire sturdier boots now he wasn't in the city. Jen was trying to hold in her indignation, but then found that it burst from her. She was, for the first time in a long time, scared and struggling to deal with everything.

"But I don't remember what happened!" Jen retorted angrily.

Cassandra took one scathing look at her then pulled her to the side, into a small alcove as they passed through the gate. She looked around, but no one was in earshot.

"That is what you say," whispered Cassandra fiercely pushing Jen up against the cold stone wall and grabbed a fistful of the front of Jen's coat in her gloved hand. Jen struggled trying to break free, but the Seeker's grasp was far too strong.

"They need an explanation and the only way to do that is by acting to help them. I know it isn't fair Trevelyan, and I am inclined from what you have shown me so far to believe that you tell the truth. But Justinia was a dear friend and mentor to me. I—" Cassandra looked away, pain clearly visible on her face. Her voice softened, "If I am struggling with the hand the Maker has dealt us in the past day, others will be as well. Possibly more so." She released Jen from her grasp and turned away.

Trying to get her temper under control Jen closed her eyes for moment, thinking hard. It had been a long time since anyone had challenged her and she was not reacting well to it. However, if she had wanted to remain alone at the top she should have stayed in her own dark world. A world full of blood, where ultimately, she assassinated targets for gold.

"I'm sorry," sighed Jen, running a hand through her long black hair. "My temper has been known to get the better of me in less stressful situations than this. But I am angry, confused and as you informed me earlier: I am dying."

The truth of her own words shocked Jen, she was dying and unless she acted soon on what was at best, a guess, she would die. She felt hollow. If she died today, she would die never having achieved redemption for the way she had lived her life.

"Perhaps, Lady Seeker, I could ask you a favour?"

"What would you ask of me?" Cassandra looked furtive at the request.

"If possible, can you call me by my first name, Jennifer? Or Jen if you prefer. I hate Treveylan, all I associate it with is pain and loss. I hope that in time I might reclaim the name and do something better with it, but for now, if I need not hear it… that would be preferable."

"I think I can manage that," replied Cassandra slowly. "Now come, Leliana will be wondering where we have got to."


	3. Chapter 3

Public opinion of Jen was definitely poor. When they had finally met with Leliana she had been threatened repeatedly with demands that she be detained immediately and taken to Val Royeaux for trial. The irony of this did not escape her, if they truly knew who she was, they would not hesitate. And the Maker seemed to be having even more fun with her than usual given the insinuations came from a High Chancellor— named Roderick. Pure coincidence, but still.

However, Cassandra's staunch defence of herself and her decisions regarding Jen had cheered her. The Seeker seemed to be warming to her ever so slightly, even caring to ask her opinion on whether to take the mountain pass or march with the soldiers to the breach. Sister Leliana was more reserved, but didn't disagree with Cassandra openly at least and allowed Jen's decision to stand. Although, the fact that Jen's choice agreed with Leliana and meant that her missing scouts were were to be looked for on the mountain pass undoubtedly helped Jen's case.

On the way out of the camp Jen had been provided with a small cache of equipment. She had been delighted to discover two sturdy twin daggers within it, and she didn't hesitate to rid herself of the rusty sword she had picked up earlier. They were not in the same league as the daggers she had lost at the conclave, but she thought she should be able to make do with them for now.

The climb upwards to the mountain pass was not straightforward. After climbing a series of rickety wooden ladders and the even less stable wooden platforms between them, they pulled themselves to the top to find two bodies.

"Damn it!" exclaimed Cassandra loudly as she rushed forward and kneeled down to examine the bodies.

"They were Leliana's people... but the tracks don't end here." She pointed to the footprints in the snow leading away from them. "There were more than two scouts. This way!" shouted Cassandra, striding off purposefully.

Jen glanced sideways at Varric. "Don't look at me like that," he said snorting. "I'm more than used to running around at the whim of the Seeker. She pretty much kidnapped me at the beginning of all of this mess."

"Really?" asked Jen as they set off after Cassandra. "Why are you still here then?"

"Really," replied Varric grimly. "I'll explain later."

It seemed that there was definitely a rift between the Seeker and Varric, something to tread carefully around until she knew more.

It wasn't long until they heard shouting ahead. It seemed that the world had turned to chaos in the short time since the conclave, and sure enough again there was another rift with demons tHat had broken through from the fade.

Cassandra was in the midst of the fighting already, her shield raised against a demons attack that should have buried its talons into an already wounded scout. Then the demons head exploded as a well aimed explosive shot from Varric's crossbow hit its mark.

This time Jen was determined to show her worth in a fight; she knew what would happen to her when she approached the rift and was going to use it to her advantage.

Pulling her daggers from their sheathes on her back, Jen took a deep breath and surged forward. She hurtled forward towards the nearest demon, cloaking herself with a smoke bomb and smiled as she felt the barrier Solas has just cast wrapping itself around her protectively with the sensation of a cool breeze against her skin on a hot day. The mark on her hand was pulsing, but for the moment she wasn't afraid of it; she knew what she needed to do. Jen leapt high into the air aiming to bring her right dagger down into the back of the shade in front of her. At the same time, the smoke dissapated and she raised her left hand to the rift, using what Solas had taught her and a green jet of electricity hit the rift disrupting it. Burying her right dagger to the hilt in the back of the shade, it let out a high pitched shriek of pain, but Jen barely heard it as she concentrated on the rift. Then— bang! It exploded loudly and the demon that Jen was clinging to hit the ground. She pulled her right dagger free and staggered forwards, swiftly cutting its throat before turning towards the rest of the fight, then stopped.

Cassandra, Varric and Solas were stood looking at her open mouthed. Around them, all the demons they had been fighting were strewn across the ground as though stunned. The scouts that they had been trying to rescue stared at Jen with undisguised wonder. Shaking herself, Cassandra stepped forward and thrust her blade firmly into the stunned shade in front of her.

"What did you do?" demanded Solas, as he stepped over the demon before him, casually dispatching it with a lightning bolt. It's head cracked backwards into the ground with a sickening crunch.

"I don't know really," said Jen quietly, "I was trying to do what you showed me." She stepped forward to the rift and tentatively raised her left hand again. This time, with the customary explosion, the rift closed.

"Well whatever you did, it was quite something," said Varric clapping her on the back. "And I'm not just talking about the weird shit either." He looked up at her, genuinely impressed. "Where did you learn to fight like that?" Cassandra had trudged over and she was looking at Jen guardedly, but she could not disguise her curiosity. It seemed that the Seeker was the sort of person who didn't hide what she was thinking. Not well anyway.

"Oh, I—" She turned away from him and stared at the ground. She should have known this was coming. Normally she would have a story prepared, so well thought through that part of it could even be verified. But there was no way she could have foreseen the situation she was now in. "— I picked up some things here and there while I was travelling with a mercenary company."

Useless, why did she say that!? It would be easy for the Nightingale with her network to discover the truth. In the line of work that Jen had been part of, she heard things and she knew just how good at her job Leliana was. In the past, Jen had suspected that one of Leliana's spies had made it through her initial screening process and into her own network. Jen still hadn't been able to discover why she had acquired the interest of the Divine, but as she went by another name then and only revealed her identity to those she truly trusted, she was doubtful the Left Hand had discovered much. Or so she hoped. She didn't want to be associated with that life anymore.

"Well regardless kid, nice work. Remind me and Bianca here," He patted his crossbow fondly, "not to pick a fight with you," said Varric good-naturedly.

"Your crossbow is called Bianca?" asked Jen snorting loudly. "There must be a good story there?"

Solas looked interested at Jen's question, but Cassandra rolled her eyes and went to talk with one of the scouts.

"I'm sorry kid, but that's one story I don't tell."

"Fair enough, we all have at least one of those," she conceded, looking away. Solas she noticed, was also avoiding eye contact. Then Jen realised something.

"Varric, why do you keep calling me kid? I'm 27 years old!"

"That makes you younger than me, but if you don't like it... I can always think of a new nickname!" Eyes glittering with mischief, Varric left her to go and round up the Seeker, leaving Jen unable to help herself but smile.

There was something very wrong dwelling in the remains of the Temple of Sacred Ashes. An imprint, or a shadow, left by the remains of the magic that caused the breach. They had come across bodies, twisted and rent by the force of the explosion that were fixed in place by what Solas told her he suspected was caused by small tears in the fade. Making her more uncomfortable was the discovery that Jen could feel what he described... if she concentrated the air felt thinner to her in those places. She assumed that this was an effect caused by the mark; it unsettled her.

Amongst the rubble ahead, massive red crystals were bursting free from the ground, casting an eerie red light over their surroundings. Being no stranger to lyrium having known a few mages, and a few Templars for that matter, in her time she recognised it at once. Her curiosity getting the better of her, she stepped towards it intending to examine the crystals.

"Stop!" shouted Varric running forwards and stepping between her and the crystals.

"What?" asked Jen, slightly abashed.

"I've come across this before. Red lyrium. Horrible stuff," he shivered.

"Where have you seen it before? I've never come across it."

"Well you wouldn't, it's not exactly common and Hawke and I agreed to keep it a secret. It's terrible shit." He shook his head, visibly upset. "My brother Bertrand and I discovered it and then it fell into the hands of Knight Commander Meredith in Kirkwall. It drove her mad. It does things, I don't know how it works, but Red Lyrium can enhance a Templar or a Mages powers, but it comes at a terrible price. Now I'm not going to say that Meredith was great to begin with, but it drove her mad. She nearly wiped out the whole circle. If Hawke hadn't stopped her..." He sighed.

"The knight commander did what she did because of this red lyrium?" Asked Jen curiously. "I'd heard that she turned on the mages because they supported that mage who blew up Kirkwall's Chantry? There had been violence in the Circle for a while hadn't there?" _She thought of Roderick— his expression of horror— her daggers gleaming with blood— the bodies on the floor._ No! Not now. She couldn't afford to remember that. She had to stay focused.

"Blondie? Ha! What he did certainly didn't help the mages in the short term. The retribution was brutal. Meredith was biased before the red lyrium and oppressed the mages, once she had a statue of it and Blondie gave her an excuse, frankly, it made her evil," a haunted look settled on his features as he spoke.

"So yeah, don't touch the red shit!" he finished bluntly.

"Jennifer," said Cassandra in her thick Nevarran accent, "we need to get moving. The soldiers making their way up the pass must be close now. Once they are in place, we can try and seal the breach."

They reached the centre of the chapel, its insides barely recognisable as the grand building Jen had visited only a day previously.

Leading the way, Jen headed down a set of stone steps that were still intact. Her mark burning hotter and hotter as she approached the massive rift. A jet of green light spluttered from her hand unexpectedly and she staggered. A pair of strong, slender hands caught her from behind, Solas held her gently and then set her upright.

"Are you alright?" he asked, looking concerned.

Jen was about to reply that she was, when before she could help it, she let out a shout of pain as another green jet of light exploded from her hand. This time it connected with the breach, but instead of exploding, loud, booming voices echoed around the hollowed out chapel. Solas kept a steadying hand on Jen's shoulder as she looked upwards, where a faint projection of a woman in chantry robes had materialised.

The woman was screaming, clearly bound by her hands.

"That is the Divine!" shouted Cassandra in horror. "What is this?"

Jen didn't answer her, nor did the others, for they were transfixed by the apparition before them. There was the sound of a door being thrown open and then another woman entered the apparition. A woman who despite the green tint of the projection, had thick glossy black hair and violet eyes, and carried twin daggers, drawn in front of her.

"What is the meaning of this!?" The Jen in the vision demanded. Then, as quickly as it appeared, the vision broke, disintegrating into the harsh green light of the breach, and fading.

Jen stood up straight, shrugging off Solas' hand. She knew what she had to do, and frankly she wanted the mark on her hand gone. There was so much she didn't understand, but she was tired and she knew that nothing would change, regardless as to whether she waited or not. Moving with the grace of the assassin that she was, but not longer wanted to be, she stepped forwards and raised her hand upwards, towards the breach.


	4. Chapter 4

Jen awoke, but she didn't want to open her eyes. Not yet. She needed time to process the events that had led her to this point, lying in a lumpy bed with what smelled like a hay stuffed mattress. Wiggling the fingers of her left hand, she then grasped the sheets she was lying on. It was nice to know that her hand was still there and functional; it didn't hurt anymore either.

Quietly, she heard a door open and felt cold air rush inside, blowing away the smell of the smoke from the fire for a moment. This was accompanied by a gentle, low pitched and tuneful humming from the person who stepped inside. She tensed up. Years of being on constant guard made it very difficult for her to stay still and feign sleep. To distract herself, Jen decided to concentrate in order to discern who the visitor might be. Light footsteps, either a small man, or more likely a female— the tune— she recognised it, but where from? Ah it is an elven song. Sad fact, but elves tended to be servants. So, a female elven servant. Where was she?

Jen opened her eyes and sat up. The servant stood at the end of her bed with a fresh pile of linen sheets in her hands noticed this, her eyes widened then she squealed and fell to her knees.

"Oh Maker! I am sorry my lady! I didn't mean to wake you!" Her cheeks flushed as she caught Jen's gaze, instantly looking away and bowing her head.

"Erm, that's fine," laughed Jen, who was a bit bemused as she swung her legs over the side of the bed to get up. She looked down realising that other than her small clothes the only item of clothing she was still wearing from the night before was her shirt. Glancing around the room, she asked, "Any chance you know where my clothes are?"

"I think that there are some day clothes in wardrobe, there my lady." She pointed at a fine oak wardrobe stood in the corner of the cabin. "But I believe that you are to be provided with new armour. Maker!" She exclaimed springing to her feet. "I'm to tell Lady Pentaghast that you are awake! Excuse me Lady Herald!"

Turning on her heel the elf was out of the door before Jen knew it.

"Wait!" Jen shouted after her. "Herald?! Herald of what?"

Quickly dressing in the black breeches, white cotton tunic, formal red silk jacket accentuated with silver thread along the hems and sturdy black lace up boots she had been left, Jen walked to the door of the cabin and slowly turned the handle.

The cold was bracing, causing Jen to shiver instantly as she stepped outside. It was snowing again and Jen couldn't help but smile as she took in her surroundings, because she knew when she was now: Haven. However, it wasn't quite the Haven she remembered from the times she had visited to trade in the past. Although the quaint wooden cabins remained the same, complete with the snow which settled on each roof to complete the picturesque setting, the little town was more busy and filled with more people than Jen had ever known. In fact, as she trudged through the snow she realised that more and more were looking her way, stopping and whispering to the others who joined them; their numbers were increasing.

They stared unashamedly as she passed by, but unlike before when she had felt condemned by the soldiers at the bridge, their faces conveyed a wonder and awe which made Jen feel more uncomfortable than before. She could deal with people who hated her, this was alien to her.

"It's her! The Herald of Andraste!" A few were shouting excitedly further ahead of her. Herald of Andraste? She needed to find Cassandra, or Varric... or even Solas. Something must have happened when she went to close the breach, something that she couldn't remember.

The closer she got to the chantry, the louder the whispers intensified. Children came running towards her only to stop and point, eyes wide and then run off excitedly. For the most part, Jen kept her head down and tried to pretend it wasn't happening. Although she had decided to step out of the shadows and begin living in the light again, to try and do some good, going from seeing fear in the faces of those she approached to the outpouring of love and respect from these people — it was too much. She didn't know how to deal with it.

She quickened her pace as she approached the vast wooden door of the chantry, threw herself through it, closed it and slumped against the smooth, cold wood. Jen closed her eyes in relief at having escaped all of those people.

"Excuse me, Lady Trevelyan?" a soft voice spoke to Jen's right. Jen squinted through the gloom, picking out a woman who appeared to be taking in her sudden appearance amusedly.

"Yes?" Jen sighed dejectedly.

The woman laughed. "I take it the people of Haven have somewhat overwhelmed you my Lady?" she enquired kindly in a flowing Antivan accent. Her dark hair and olive complexion confirmed that she was Antivan and she wore a rich gold ruffled coat, which Jen recalled was the current fashion there.

"You could say that," replied Jen.

"Forgive me, where are my manners!" she exclaimed, and hurriedly held out her hand. Jen took it. It was a good firm handshake, which Jen approved of.

"I am Josephine Montilyet, the Inquisition's ambassador. Not that the Inquisition has been announced yet."

Josephine smiled and waved a hand gesturing towards the end of the Chantry hall.

"Will you walk with me my lady? There are others who are dying to meet you," she said excitedly, but then sobered as she met Jen's violet eyes and then, she noticed, Josephine's gaze fell on her left hand and she added more soberly. "We need to talk."

"I believe that you have already met Cassandra and Leliana?" enquired Josephine as she opened the door to the war room.

Jen didn't reply however, because an argument was ensuing inside. Cassandra and Leliana were stood on one side of the war table and Chancellor Roderick on the other and Cassandra was gesticulating wildly, clearly frustrated. There was also another man stood in the corner, with his arms folded and the expression on his face impassive. He was clearly a military man, clad in armour, fit with strong arms and broad shoulders. Also, there was something about the way he held himself and the style of his clothes— a Templar thought Jen, her eyes widening.

"It is what the Divine wanted to happen Chancellor!" shouted Cassandra angrily. "If the conclave failed, she intended to declare an Inquisition."

Poor Chancellor Roderick, thought Jen as Cassandra bore down on him, glaring angrily. To his credit though, he stared back defiantly. "That may be, but I cannot support you if you insist that she—" he pointed at Jen furiously, "—continue to be free! She should be sent to Val Royeaux to be questioned and thrown in a cell right now."

"Enough!" shouted the blonde haired man. He stepped forward between the pair.

"Cassandra, this shouting is helping no one," Cassandra stared, looking slightly surprised at his intervention, "and Chancellor, there is no discussion on this point. We are not going to send the one person who has the the ability to stop us being overrun with demons to Val Royeux in chains. That is not happening." He held up his hand as the Chancellor looked to protest, his face flushed in fury. "I'm sorry, it is not a matter of guilt, but practicality," he stated flatly. "I know you are a respected man, but I really must ask you to leave now. The Inquisition will be declared today and we have business to discuss with Lady Trevelyan." Striding to the door, he opened it and stood, looking at the Chancellor expectantly until Roderick meekly obliged and left them.

"Bravo Commander!" laughed Leliana, clapping as the door shut. The Commander blushed and mumbled, all assertiveness seemingly having left him.

Josephine stepped forward. "Now, as I was saying before walking into that ruckus," she said feigning exasperation, but ruining the effect when she broke into a grin, "I believe that you have met both Cassandra and Leliana already, so the only introduction left is the Commander. Lady Trevelyan, this is Commander Cullen Rutherford."

Cullen smiled at her, but Jen did not return it. Her insides felt as though they had been plunged into an icy lake. Cullen Rutherford, former Knight-Captain of the Templars in Kirkwall. The man who Roderick had spoken of so highly, and the man unknown to the Commander himself whom Jen had nearly murdered just for a bag of gold. If he knew who she was he would demand justice, because it was the chaos that she had created which had sparked the Mage rebellion and had caused the loss of life of his protege and friend— and her lover— Roderick.

Jen managed to nod in his direction, but luckily or perhaps unluckily, Cassandra had regathered herself and turned her attention to Jen.

"What on earth were you thinking?" she whispered dangerously, turning all of her anger that had been directed at Roderick towards Jen.

"What do you mean?" replied Jen, holding her hands up to defend herself against the Seeker's murderous glare.

"Without any warning, you ran off ahead of us, despite having nearly collapsed twice due to the effect that the breach had on your mark and attempted to close it with no guidance. No protection. Quite alone."

Ah. She remembered now how she had decided that she would go for it, completely carelessly. It was not how she had been taught to behave.

"I'm sorry." She said quietly. "The pain was driving me insane, I just wanted to stop it. I didn't think."

Cassandra closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths to compose herself, before replying in a more even tone. "I can understand that." Leliana looked a little surprised at Cassandra's admission. "But if we are to fight side by side and get through this, we must work together. I know that you said before all of this you worked as a mercenary. It cannot be like that for us, with everyone working to their own vested interests."

Everything that Cassandra said made sense to Jen, but as Cassandra herself had pointed out, Jen was used to working alone or in a team that changed its loyalty depending on who was the highest bidder. She had lived her life thus far not thinking of others and because of this — even though it was wrong— she felt angry at the way she had been spoken to. If Cassandra only knew... but she must not know. So instead of reacting in anger, Jen calmly replied, "I understand. Given I am still alive, can you tell me what happened. Was I successful?"

It seemed that Cassandra truly wore her emotions for all to see, because she didn't even try to hide how relieved she looked at Jen's response. Perhaps she had feared that Jen would have another outburst like on the bridge. The Seeker stepped back, leaning on the edge of the war table crossing her arms and looked to Leliana.

"You were partially successful Herald." There was a slight smile on the Orleisan woman's lips as she said the word Herald, Jen noticed.

"You have, as far as my scouts can tell, blocked the breach and in doing so managed to stabilise your mark." Jen flexed her fingers on her left hand instinctively, as though to check they were still there. "After you collapsed and Cassandra carried you out of danger, no more demons came through the rift and haven't since."

"You carried me?" Jen asked incredulously. The Seeker looking abashed replied sharply,"I could hardly leave you there! In the moments before you collapsed, scores of demons pulled themselves through the breach and began to attack. Varric and Solas covered me while I got you out."

"Thank you." Jen said sincerely, hoping that Cassandra could tell by her tone how grateful she was. The Seeker grunted in response, looking away. If Jen didn't know better, she thought she looked slightly embarassed.

"Anyway," Leliana spoke again. "Now that the breach has at least been partially stopped, and we shall announce the Inquisition shortly, our focus should return to stabilising the Hinterlands."

Leliana carried on for some time, but Jen was only partially listening. She had noticed how Cullen had quietly observed the meeting, seeming to reserve judgment on her for now. Jen couldn't believe that he was here, and although she knew that she must pretend that she didn't know who he was, the constant reminder of one of her worst days now taking a physical form was going to be very difficult for her.

* * *

"Are you alright k—" Jen looked up from her tankard with a glare directed at the dwarf. "Woah! Okay, sorry I forgot that I'm not to call you that!" Varric said, hands held in front of him in apology. A tavern was a good place to sit and contemplate everything Jen had thought, but she had made an error in forgetting that as well as that, people used them as meeting places and frequent them often. She had found a nice secluded corner in Haven's, away from the landlady Flissa who had tried far too hard to flirt with her for Jen's liking in her current morose mood. It wasn't that Flissa wasn't pretty... she shook herself. There were other things to think about at the moment, things that only a good few pints of ale would fix.

Varric pulled up a chair opposite her and Jen sighed. "I'm sorry Varric, I'm just feeling a bit overwhelmed. Everything's been moving so fast— well. You saw the announcement, I'm a fully paid up member of the Inquisition now and the Herald of bloody Andraste to boot apparently." Varric laughed. "But Cassandra told me, and I checked with Solas too before coming here, that I'm not going to die anymore, so that's something," she stated dryly.

"Well that's a reason to toast at least!" he said raising his tankard towards her expectantly with an eyebrow raised, until she lifted her tankard grudgingly and and hit his.

Leaning in, Varric said in hushed tones. "So you are struggling with this, I get it. I have a friend who found herself in a similar situation to you." Jen raised her eyebrows in disbelief.

"Well okay, Hawke had the expectations of a city, you have— at the very least Haven, but I think we both know how this will grow. That's what those in charge want, after all." He glanced at her apologetically. "Anyway, what I am trying to say is I have lived through a small scale version of what lies in store for you. If there is anything I can do to help you out, let me know."

Jen paused for a moment studying the dwarf. Varric did seem like he was trustworthy, but he didn't know her, what would happen if he found out what she had done in her past? But, she was touched that he cared; perhaps it wouldn't be a bad thing to open up a little more to him. With the secrets that she already carried, now having added to it the burden that being part of the Inquisition was sure to add, it would be good to have a friend. Especially one who liked frequenting taverns and told a good story. But first she needed to know more about him.

"Thanks Varric," she said sincerely. "That means a lot. So..." she grinned, "you mentioned earlier that Cassandra had pretty much kidnapped you. Care to elaborate, or was it simply so she could truss you up and get her hands on that chest hair of yours?"

Varric spluttered and spat out his swig of ale all over the table.

[ **A/N** Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read Redemption so far! I'm incredibly appreciative of the review, follows and favourites I have received!]


	5. Chapter 5

It was nightfall, but Jen couldn't find the escape of sleep, despite the pleasant numbness that the ale she had drank with Varric had induced. Returning to her cabin, she immediately felt restless and didn't even bother to lie down. She began to pace back and forth. There was too much noise— too much activity here. Soldiers patrolling; even performing training exercises at this late hour. Despite their lack of numbers, Cullen was making sure that they were well prepared.

Cullen. Why did she have to think about him? So much guilt there to process, because it lead her straight back to Roderick. It was her fault that he had died. Why was she thinking about this? Again! She needed a distraction. Turning to the small chest she dug out her throwing knives, ten of them, sheathed and well oiled in a leather belt that she buckled up around her waist. She also took out a black leather coat which she threw around her shoulders and pulled the hood up. Taking a brief look at herself in the freestanding mirror in the corner of her cabin, she thought she looked more how she still saw herself: cloaked in shadow.

Once outside she headed down to the practice ground. There were no soldiers there. This surprised her until she made out the flickering yellow pinpricks of light on a mountain to the south, not too far away. Cullen was making sure they were well prepared, she thought bitterly.

Turning quickly and putting all of her frustration into it, with grace and fluidity she pulled a knife from her belt and hurled it at the nearest practice dummy. Thud. She turned again, repeating the motion and putting all of her concentration into the movement. Thud. The next knife came easily, and she shouted out as this one hit. Then then next and the next, until she was moving so quickly, she only stopped when her right hand moved to her belt and no more knives resided there. Panting after the exertion, Jen stepped forwards to assess her efforts. Every one of the three practice dummies had been hit squarely in their wooden heads. Repeatedly.

"Bravo," said a deep voice. Jen looked up towards Haven's outermost gate. Stood under the archway was Cullen, and at his side, Sister Nightingale. They were silhouetted against the torchlight either side of them, but even so Jen thought she saw that Leliana's gaze was piercing, yet thoughtful. As though she was trying to unpick a particularly frustrating and troublesome knot.

Pulling her daggers quickly out of the dummies, and leaving deep gouges in each of them, she strode towards them both and threw her hood back. She had nothing to hide, for the moment at least.

"Commander. Sister Nightingale," she nodded at both. "Come to see me practice?" she quipped.

"That was fantastic," Cullen said quickly with a smile. "Would you mind giving some of our recruits some pointers?"

"Erm, yes. Sure," replied Jen, taken aback.

"If the Herald has time Cullen," Leliana chastised him. "We do have more pressing tasks at present."

He seemed undeterred though. "I think that your scouts in particular may learn something from the Herald and it would boost moral for her to be seen working with them."

"That is true. If the Herald doesn't mind, then why not. Your skills are impressive." Leliana said, looking at Jen intently. "Not at all bad for an ex-mercenary, no." So, it was as she had expected, Leliana was looking into her past. She hoped that she didn't find too much. "We must speak at some point Jennifer," said Leliana, suddenly disarmingly charming. "I used to be a Bard, and tales of lives well lived like those who have been mercenaries have always been particularly interesting to me."

"Of course Sister, that would be delightful I'm sure," Jen replied in an equally sweet, perhaps bordering on sickly tone, matching Leliana's acting and holding her ground. She refused to look worried at the veiled accusations.

"Excellent," Leliana smiled, "I look forward to it, and please, call me Leliana. Goodnight to you both." She turned on her heel and disappeared through the gate.

"Our spymaster can be a bit– well– I think she takes her work very seriously," said Cullen slowly. It seemed he had picked up on the frostiness between the two of them. "But she is very loyal if you get to know her. Anyway," he paused looking slightly nervous. "May I walk you to your cabin? I assume that's where you were going?"

"I— yes. Thank you," she murmured, suddenly feeling compelled to check that all her throwing knives had been fully sheathed, so as to avoid his gaze.

It was tearing at her insides, the guilt she carried. Worsened by being near to him. Any distraction that the brief exercise had given her had shattered, rendering her practice session useless. Jen knew that she would have to try and avoid being near him until she could figure out what to do; how to deal with the ramifications of her past actions.

Her past? If she was honest she had hoped to eventually overcome it, but this? Having a living and breathing reminder of how lost she had been, how despicable... The maker, if he existed, was cruel indeed.

They trudged through the snow together, neither speaking until finally Cullen cleared his throat and said softly. "I believe this is your cabin my Lady?"

She nodded, still struggling to look at him.

"Then I bid you goodnight."

He turned smartly and headed up the path towards the Chantry. She couldn't help it, she stood rooted to the spot watching him disappear into the dusting of snow that had just begun to fall. He was so polite, so nice, but all that did was make her feel worse. For the first time in a long time, she needed someone who could help her. Who she could confide in. Because – she thought as she finally turned away and headed into her cabin – she simply didn't know if there was anything she could do to fix this.


	6. Chapter 6

**Four Years Previously**

Jen was delighted. Roderick had given her everything she needed to complete her mission and she had heard whispers through her carefully selected network of contacts that there was the possibility of an additional target, and a substantial amount of gold. She was slightly concerned with how attached she had become to the boy. Boy? Hardly a boy at twenty, when she was not much older. It was strange for her, because Jen realised slowly that she looked forward to his visits much more than any of her other contacts. They were certainly more intimate than her other meetings… that must be it, she convinced herself. Having learnt the hard way when she was young not to trust – not even family – she knew that the practical side of herself which had always steered her well would not allow a dalliance. Not one that could get out of hand and compromise the mission.

She had moved away from her camp and was sat cross legged on a rock, five miles east of Kirkwall. It didn't do for anyone to know where you were camped, not when there wasn't trust. And trust in her line of work was hard to come by. It always paid to be careful.

That had been her first mistake after all. When her father had taken his own life and her mother had fully succumbed to her despair, Jen at the age of 11 had run away. The atmosphere with her mother was so toxic. None of the external family members had cared about her, and being with a mother who didn't even look at her when she was crying at her fathers funeral had been too much. She had trusted her mother to care for her unconditionally, and had been so let down.

Her second mistake had been to trust an old man who had offered her shelter. At first he had been kind, giving her food and new clothes. Then one day it had changed . When he had introduced her to 'her'. The woman who had crafted Jen into a weapon and taught her to use 'all' of her attributes to get a result, whatever the cost. She didn't resent the woman though, because she had learned more than enough to survive as a child otherwise homeless and alone during the blight and its aftermath.

But now, Jen was free of _her_. No longer a puppet crafted to kill on demand and earn her superiors copious amounts of gold in the process. How free was she though? More and more often of late she pondered this and now she thought on it again as she sat on the cold rock, waiting for a messenger in the reducing light of dusk. She still killed for gold, although now she also worked from time to time as a mercenary. Just simple jobs, protection mainly. However, she was in her mind first and foremost an assassin and acted exactly as she had been taught. Only it was she who took the contracts and pulled the details of each mission from a web of contacts.

If she wanted she could choose not to live this way. Soon she would have more than enough money to disappear wherever she fancied. The problem was, Jen didn't know what else she could do. And the darker, detached side of herself admitted that she would struggle to live without the addicting euphoria of a successful job... and even worse: the rush of taking a life. The metallic tang of freshly spilt blood and the surprise in the eyes of her target— they never saw it coming.

With a single mindedness that had been honed by years of discipline, she pushed those thoughts aside. Problems for another time. Rising to her feet and jumping off the rock to land lightly on her feet, she began to pace back and forth.

Absentmindedly she stopped for a moment and slid her hand under her tunic on the small of her back. Slowly she touched the skin where she knew she was marked by _her_. An intricate tattoo. One of possession. _No!_ She thought angrily.

Yet again she was thinking of her past. Recently Jen had noticed that she struggled to cast thoughts away as she had done before. Her mental barriers were cracking. Slowly, she was beginning to question herself. Why now, she wasn't sure. For the first time since she was a child, she was beginning to feel again. Roderick was proof of that.

Then, as the sun began to set, casting brilliant red ribbons across the meadow to the edge of the wood when Jen resided, a figure came into view. She watched carefully, noting how the man carried a staff— a mage.

He was hooded, but as he approached he threw back his hood revealing shoulder length blonde hair and smiled. It wasn't a true smile though, she thought he looked on edge. His eyes darted around the meadow.

"Raven?" he questioned.

Jen nodded.

"Good. We have had a correspondence through letters so far, but I decided not to entrust this knowledge to anyone else." The man paused for a moment as though listening to someone whisper in his ear, frowned for a moment, then continued.

"The plan is changing, evolving. Your objective before was to kill a mage to incite rebellion. That will still happen, but with other plans that I have in motion, I have another target for you."

Jen frowned and crossed her arms.

"I have only been paid for the one hit, if you require another in addition, it will cost you considerably more."

"I am aware of that, thank you!" he spat, suddenly angry. "You would think a righteous cause would be enough, but no! That doesn't matter to anyone here, no wonder the world is full of injustice!"

Jen stepped back, casually resting her hands on her hips and over her throwing knives. Just a precaution.

"You truly believe it don't you?" She asked curiously, unable to help herself. "That the mages must rise up?"

"Of course I do, you child," he said scathingly, how he knew that she was young when her face was hidden behind her mask was worrying. Perhaps he gathered it from her voice? "Nothing must distract from the mages gaining their freedom. They just need a little push," he added darkly.

Not at all impressed with the man's attitude, she decided to get back to business so the matter could be resolved as soon as possible.

"So who is the target for this additional hit?"

"Knight-Captain Cullen Rutherford. He is Meredith's right hand. I think it's time that we remove it from her. Given the Champion has failed to do anything about her, something must be done."

"I hope you have a lot more gold, as I doubt the Knight-Captain will be easy to kill," she said dismissively.

He was fiddling with a pouch on his belt and pulled from it a small bag of gold. He threw it at her. "This is an incentive," he murmured darkly. "It will be matched, when you are successful."

Jen was struggling to process the weight of the bag of gold. It was very heavy. "I think that should cover it. But I need a name, to make sure that I am paid what I'm owed."

The blonde haired man laughed, looking quite mad as he did so. He pulled the hood up and turned to walk away. "I am justice for all of my kind, but my name my Lady Raven, is Anders."


	7. Chapter 7

**Present day**

The Hinterlands trip had gone well for the most part. Jen found that she was growing to like Varric and Solas very much and Cassandra seemed to be softening towards her as well. The fighting mages and templars had been cleared from the crossroads and she had spoken with Mother Giselle about how best to help the people. As with many women of the chantry, she was a strong and intelligent woman. Her expectations of Jen as the Herald were moderate however, but Mother Giselle had made Jen feel as though she could see through her. It was an uncomfortable feeling.

They were returning to Haven to resupply, Jen riding a beautiful horse that had been gifted to her by a horse master she had managed to convince to help the Inquisition. But as well as this, they had headed back after receiving a letter from Leliana stating that the Chantry had upped its smear campaign against the Inquisition. It was, as the spymaster had said, time for the Inquisition to face the Chantry and demand its cooperation for the good of the people. That meant a visit to Val Royeux.

The weight of responsibly that Jen felt upon her shoulders was growing with every person she saved. That being said, she found that helping people slowly but surely was easing the darkness she carried with her, or at least gave her something else to focus on. And although helping people didn't give her the singular rush that an assassination gave her, it was a less powerful but longer lasting feeling of satisfaction.

There was a sound of a breaking twig. A rustling. Someone or something was hurting towards them through the undergrowth. Jen held her left hand up for everyone to stop and pulled her daggers from the sheath of her back. Glancing at Cassandra, the Seeker nodded, her face set and determined and they dismounted their horses. The person flew out of the cover of the trees and was brought to the ground by a smart trip from Cassandra. Varric stepped over the intruder with his crossbow, then laughed and held out his hand.

"Next time you have something to report soldier, maybe announce yourself before running headlong into the midst of a group of highly armed people," he guffawed as the young scout blushed deeply and stuttered.

"Sorry Lady Herald," he nodded in Jen's direction.

"I came to warn you my Lady. There is a rider ahead of you on the road towards Haven. They are very well armed and their shield has a crest that I didn't recognise. A bulls head. Perhaps a mercenary."

Jen sheathed her daggers and smiled at the scout.

"Thank you for the warning, you did well. But I can assure you that in this instance I am perfectly safe." She noticed that Cassandra looked confused, but Jen ignored the Seeker for the moment.

The young scout pulled his hood back up, saluted and ran off back into the trees, likely to keep watch over the rider ahead.

"I take it you recognise the crest he mentioned?" asked Cassandra bluntly as she climbed back onto her horse and they picked up the pace.

"Yes," shouted Jen as they broke into a gallop. "I don't know them personally, but by reputation. The Bull's Chargers are some of the best mercenaries out there and they work by a code."

They rounded a bend at full speed and as Jen squinted against the yellowing light of the setting sun, she made out the silhouette of a well armoured figure up ahead. As they slowed he turned his horse around to face them.

"Well met," said the man with a strong accent that Jen thought might be Tevinter in origin. He nodded at Jen and her party.

"You are from the Bull's Chargers' mercenary company, I recognise the crest on your shield," she stated slowly. He didn't argue, in fact his face seemed to brighten at the recognition. His height was hard to tell while sat on a horse, but the man was well armoured and powerfully built. His hair was a close cropped auburn colour, with shaved sides that framed his square jaw.

"I am indeed my lady. Lieutenant Cremisius Aclassi at your service, or Krem for short," he said winking mischievously. "I have come to extend an invitation to you to come and see us in action. The Iron Bull likes what he hears about the Inquisition and you will need the best if you are going to stop that hole in sky. The Bull's Chargers are the best."

"I must admit that I've heard of the Chargers before. It would be interesting to see if you deserve your reputation." Jen said slowly.

"We do." Krem stated matter-of-factly.

"I would need to discuss this further with my colleagues, but let's say for now that I'm interested. Would you care to join us at Haven for a rest and a meal while we consider this fully?"

"That sounds good to me." Krem grinned.

As they headed off again, Krem in tow, Jen smiled as he was immediately accosted by Varric asking if he liked to play Wicked Grace.

"Jennifer, are you sure this is wise?" Cassandra had moved to ride along side her.

"Trust me," she said, taking in the doubt in the Seeker's face. "We need more soldiers and they are some of the best."

"Yes, but will we be able to afford them?" Cassandra asked quietly.

Jen ran her fingers though her black hair in frustration. "I know. Hopefully Josephine or Leliana will be able to think of something. But if we can get them and they are as good as I have heard, they will be more than worth it."

 **[A/N I just wanted say thank you to both kimmyycubb and Rose13296 for your kind reviews]**


	8. Chapter 8

Unlocking the door, she hurried inside and lit a few candles. Then added some more wood to the fire as it had begun to die down. Stopping to warm her hands over it for a moment, she contemplated that she was beginning to feel as though she had a place in this eclectic mix of people that made up the Inquisition. Even finding that now she was so busy, she could push away her feelings of self loathing when she had to deal with Cullen. The way she could disregard those feelings. She would have been proud, Jen thought resentfully.

Why did she have to think of her? Now when the woman who had shaped her was so long ago in her past, that Jen could ignore the teachings of a selfish woman with only self interest at her heart.

There was a soft crunch of snow outside the door. Jen's head snapped towards it waiting. Some skills she had learned couldn't afford to be forgotten. She concentrated, trying to hear more and then a knock came.

Slowly she pulled back the deadbolt, opening the door a crack. Before her stood the last person Jen expected to seek her out. Leliana.

"What can I do for you Sister?" Jen asked, taken aback.

"I feel that we are long overdue that chat I promised you, and also another item has come up that I need your assistance with. May I come in?" The spymaster didn't wait for Jen's reply, smartly hitting her boots against the step to remove the snow from them, before stepping over the threshold.

"This is a nice cabin you have got here Trevelyan." Jen grimaced as she said her surname, which she was sure was the reason Leliana had said it. The spymaster didn't show it though, continuing to look around and then pulled her hood down. Her auburn hair was cut in a bob that extended no further than her jawline.

Deciding that she was going to need one, Jen opened her cupboard searching for her bottle of whiskey and two glasses. She set them on the table and asked, "Can I tempt you Sister?"

"Please," replied the Spymaster curtly.

Jen pulled one of the wooden chairs away from the table and sat, gesturing for Leliana to do the same.

"So Sister, how can I help you?" Jen asked when Leilana sat.

"You puzzle me Trevelyan," Leliana said slowly. "Born to a noble family, but you hate to hear the very name of the family you belong to. Then it seems that you disappear off the face of the earth for years only to return as a mercenary and attend the conclave as your own family's representative."

She took a sip of the whisky. "Surely you can see why someone like me who lives a life surrounded by secrets and intrigue would be slow to trust you?"

"I can understand that Sister," murmured Jen, refusing to meet the piercing stare that the spymaster directed at her.

"Leliana— please!" countered Leliana insistently.

"My apologies Leliana." Jen was beginning to feel that she was about to be outmanoeuvred and there was little she could do to stop it. In the past she would have simply pulled one of her daggers free from its sheath and buried it in the person who dared to question her, until their blood stained the floor and they moved no more. That was before her soul and her conscience had begun to reawaken.

She couldn't do that anymore. Even if she hadn't been trying to change, there was a massive hole in the sky and it would be unwise to kill one of the few people in Thedas who wanted to fix it, plus had the influence to make a difference.

"I need to know more about you, Jennifer before I can trust you. I can do it the difficult way, utilising my network to slowly piece together how you have lived for the past 17 years since you left Ostwick, or you can tell me. That is your choice."

"I don't see why I should. Have you done this with everyone who works in the Inquisition?" Jen gaped at the smug expression on Leliana's face. "You have, haven't you? I can't imagine there was much to find on Josephine or the Commander?"

"I have known Josephine for a long time, from when I used to work as a Bard in Val Royeux. But I still set her a test to see if she was worthy of her position. Cullen…" she sighed, "has a troubled past, more complicated than you might think. However, I have also known him for a long time, so I know and trust him. You on the other hand are an unknown. An anomaly. I cannot trust you."

"You say I have a choice," retorted Jen sharply, "but I feel very much like I am being threatened Leliana. Something I don't take lightly," she whispered dangerously.

"And there it is." Laughed Leliana, though the laughter did not reach her eyes. "There is a darkness in you Jennifer Trevelyan and I would like to know how it came to be."

"No." Jen gripped her whisky glass tightly, fighting the impulse to hurt the smirking Spymaster sat in front of her.

"So you don't deny the darkness? And I think we can add the anger to that list, looking at the way your hand is shaking on that glass."

"Stop Leliana." She could barely control the tremors of anger in her voice.

"Why? I need to know that we can rely on you. You hold a great power burned into your hand. Without you the world could fall to demons, another blight could begin! What happened to you Jennifer? Who are you?"

"DO NOT ASK ME TO RELIVE MY LIFE!" Jen shouted, her anger bursting from her. She was panting. She needed to run. Turning to act on the impulse, she stood up quickly from the table. Leliana grabbed her arm with the speed that Jen would have scarce thought possible. That was how fast she could move, but she had never met another who could match her. The Spymaster twisted Jen's arm up behind her back forcing her to the ground. Trying to counter, Jen threw her body sideways to catch Leliana off guard, but couldn't throw her off. It was as though Leilana knew what she would do before she did it. Forcing Jen to her knees, Jen felt her jacket ride up at the back. Her tattoo– no!

There was a sharp intake of breath. Leliana's grip lessened and Jen spun away on her hands and knees. Panic consumed her.

"You–" Leliana seemed lost for words. "You are – her," she whispered. "Raven." Then Leliana did something so unexpected that Jen didn't know how to react. She moved forwards, a softer expression on her face. One of wonder. Slowly kneeling down before Jen, she pulled the confused Herald towards her carefully and folded her gently into a warm embrace.

Jen's mind was racing, the adrenaline that was the byproduct of her fight or flight response coursing through her. As Leliana held her close she could smell the Spymasters sweet, flowery perfume.

"Leliana... what?" asked Jen hoarsely.

Wordlessly Leliana stood and pulled up the back of her tunic. Beneath, was a tattoo incredibly similar to Jen's own, but in the centre of the circle was a black Nightingale, not a Raven.

"I— she— you knew her?"

"Who do you mean when you say her, Jennifer?" asked Leliana softly.

"Marjorlaine."

Leliana closed her eyes in resignation. "She told me that there was another once. A child, who she shaped into a weapon with the help of an old man. That child, that was you." It wasn't a question.

"Yes," croaked Jen, trying to gain her her composure. She laughed humourlessly. "Perhaps now you might have an inkling as to why I don't like to speak about my past." Standing slowly and pulling out one of the wooden chairs to sit again, Jen settled at the table.

"I never knew that there was another?" Jen asked.

"I didn't have quite the same experience as I know that you had with Marjorlaine." Leliana said carefully as she joined Jen at the table. "I know now that she manipulated me to her own ends, that she betrayed me and my friends to torture and death because she was threatened by me. But to begin with, I went willingly, because I was sixteen and completely entranced by her. She was my lover." The shame in Leliana's voice was apparent.

Jen opened her mouth to speak, but the Spymaster held her hand up. "That is how I learned of you. She told me willingly. And later gleefully, because of how proficient you were becoming. 'My little Raven, completely without remorse.' She used to say."

"That's what she would say when she visited and I had pulled off another assignment." Jen spat bitterly.

"So now you know Leliana, but what will you do? I was a trained killer, an assassin and even a seductress if required. I gloried in the death I created, because as a teenager I became addicted to the rush of it. I felt nothing for those I killed. As Marjorlaine said, I was without remorse. You are right, there is a darkness in me. What will you do now you know?" Jen felt empty, her soul was slowly being bared for this woman to see. The steel sheath she had built around it for so many years, fatiguing and cracking under everything she was now learning.

The Spymaster frowned.

"Practically, I cannot send you away because then how would we close the breach. But knowing some of what you must have experienced, makes you less of an unknown quantity. I have watched you recently. You try so hard to help others now. I assume to help assuage the guilt you feel?"

Taking a large draught from her glass, Jen wondered idly how she had come to this point. Where the first person she revealed her past to, was the one person she was most petrified of finding out. Other than perhaps, Cullen.

"That's was why I started yes. But, I've realised that these people need me and I can make a difference here."

"Interesting. But what was it that made you leave the path that you had been set on? I know you didn't lie when you said you had worked as a mercenary." Leliana looked genuinely concerned for her.

"I—" Jen swallowed. "I don't want to speak of it. Not yet. But I will say this, someone I cared about deeply was killed, because of what I did."

She ran her hands through her hair to try and distract herself from the tears she could feel threatening to flow.

Leliana seemed to be weighing her up, making a decision. "I sought you out you know?" she whispered. "After I killed Marjolaine, I looked for you. I wanted to help you, but all I found were whispers of an assassin going by the name of Raven. I could never get any of my people close enough to you. Why did you carry on, even though she was dead? You must have known?"

Jen laughed hoarsely, she was still trying to compose herself and failing miserably. "I was addicted to it Leliana. The power that taking a life can make you feel you have, the expression on their faces when they realise that they are at an end. And I was so good at it. She shaped me into a weapon, it was all I had known. It is a long time since I was a child and knew kindness. I was beaten when I refused to follow orders and brainwashed to think how she wanted me to. I was her pawn in the great game. She created the perfect asset, an expert killer without a conscience. So when she died, I became my own boss, but I carried on. I made so much gold. Why would I stop?"

"Marjolaine was a master of manipulation. I have plenty experience of that." Leliana sighed. "Thank you for telling me this Jennifer. Even though I know you would have rather not. I will respect your privacy on the parts of your story you have left unsaid. But if you need to talk to someone, I won't judge."

"You don't know what I have done though."

"Jennifer, I murdered and manipulated my way through the Orlesian court for years until I met the Hero of Fereldan and she showed me another way. I doubt that you have done much worse than I have." Leliana replied exasperatedly. "It's what you do now to make up for it that matters."

Jen drank the remaining contents of her glass and motioned to pour herself and Leliana another. The spymaster declined on a second with a shake of her head.

"No thank you, I need to be off. But there is another matter that I would like you to look into once you return from the Storm Coast. The Grey Wardens are disappearing and I would like to know why. I have traced one called Blackwall to the Hinterlands. If you could find him when you return there, I would appreciate it."

"I will look into it when I can," said Jen, taken aback that Leliana still wanted her help.

With a nod, the Spymaster headed to the door. Once she had opened it, she turned back to Jen who had followed behind her to see her out. Leliana grasped her shoulder and whispered "It is nice to have finally found you Raven. Goodnight."

With that Leliana pulled up her hood and strode off into the night, leaving behind her an emotionally drained Herald who had no idea what she was going to do now, nor the implications that this night would have.


	9. Chapter 9

The next morning, just before midday Jen was half asleep and part of a small group heading to the Storm Coast. Cassandra, Varric and Solas had all elected to join Jen, to support her in the latter two cases and to see for herself how good the Bull's Chargers are in the formers case. Krem also travelled with them to make sure they arrived at the right destination.

"You look rough," stated Varric with a raised eyebrow. After Leliana left, Jen had hit the whiskey bottle hard before falling asleep.

"Thanks Varric," she replied sarcastically.

"Are you alright?" he asked more quietly, pulling his horse alongside hers.

"I received some, let's say, unexpected news last night. On top of everything else at the moment, I'm having some trouble processing it." They had been riding since sunrise that morning and were finally approaching the coast. Jen could smell the salt in the air, and the closer they got the wind seemed to increase in power swirling fiercely around them. Adjusting her hood against the wind, Jen glanced at Varric and saw concern but also caution on his face.

"Would you like to tell me about it?" he asked quietly.

"Not now." Wincing at how blunt she sounded, Jen continued. "It's not that I don't want to, it's just that it is a long story and I don't normally talk about it."

"Ah one of those." Varric chuckled darkly. "Well you know where to find me if you need me. I'm here for you kid." He laughed at the way she bristled.

"Well you are younger than me! I know you don't like it but it is true!"

Jen tried to hit him and shifted in her saddle nearly falling out.

Varric guffawed loudly, causing Cassandra and Solas to look back at them.

"Will you two stop messing around!" shouted the Seeker irritably over the wind.

Jen caught Varric's eye, and couldn't help it. She burst out laughing. Cassandra didn't look impressed, but Jen thought she would make it up to her later. It felt too good to laugh at the moment.

* * *

Upon arriving at the Storm Coast, Jen decided that it was very much deserving of its name. The wind howled incessantly around them, while sheet rain combined with it. The deafening crashes of the waves hitting rocks made it difficult for her to hear Krem who was directing them towards the beach. Ahead through the storm, she could pick out figures fighting on the sand. Patches of it were stained red with blood.

"Damn it!" shouted Krem, jumping from his horse and running to help. Jen followed, along with Cassandra, Solas and Varric.

"Remember," shouted Jen over the din. "Do not harm the Chargers. We need them." Then she stalked towards them crouching, not that it was of great advantage when the weather was so bad, and snuck towards the nearest enemy. She let her training take over, gliding silently forwards and reaching up to stick a dagger in the back of her chosen enemy.

They cried out in surprise as Jen's blow fell true. Jen watched as they twisted, trying to understand what had just happened. Then she pulled out the blade turning it as she wrenched it from his back. He crumpled.

Moving to her next target, she quickly realised that the Chargers, although outnumbered needed no help. Enemies were falling around them and the figure that must have been the Iron Bull, a massive bare chested Qunari, was laughing as he wielded his massive two handed axe into any nearby foes unfortunate enough to be close by.

Before Jen knew it, the fight was over. She watched as Solas moved forward to offer healing to Krem, who had sustained a slight flesh wound to his thigh. Cassandra, Varric and the Iron Bull himself approached her.

"A good fight," said the Qunari, Iron Bull. He must have been at least 7 foot tall, with an imposing set of horns adorning his head. One eye was covered by a patch, the other twinkled with mischief, but also there was intelligence and intensity to his gaze.

"It was," replied Jen. "You put on quite a display and I have never seen anyone enjoy a fight so much. Nor swing a great axe quite like that before!" She grinned up at him. The Iron Bull looked pleased.

"Krem!" he shouted over to the Leiutenant who shook Solas' hand, healing apparently complete.

"What Chief?" Krem asked once he had joined them

"Make sure that the clean up is fast." He turned and addressed the other Chargers who were approaching. "Once we have done that, get one of the barrels open!" He boomed over the wind and rain which was starting to slow.

"Oooh rah!" yelled the Chargers in response, all grinning as they turned to the mess of bodies on the beach.

"Who were they?" asked Jen.

"Vints. There have been a few groups in this area stirring up trouble recently."

"Vints? From Tevinter?" She frowned. "That's a long way to come. Any idea why they were here?"

"Not yet," said Iron Bull. "I'd like to know why though." He gritted his teeth in discomfort. "Qunari and Tevinter rarely get on, so I will monitor this closely."

"I think that is something we also need to keep an eye on," Jen added with a significant look at Cassandra, who nodded in agreement.

Despite the rain that still hadn't lessened completely, Jen pulled down her hood and looked up at Iron Bull with confidence, holding out her hand. After all she had witnessed and what else she had heard, she wanted the Chargers on her side in her fight against the rifts. She was determined an agreement could be made to make that happen.

"As we haven't been introduced properly, my name is Jennifer Trevelyan and based on what I have seen I would like to hire your company to aid the Inquisition." She said, meeting Iron Bulls gaze steadily.

"A good choice," replied Iron Bull in his deep register, grasping Jens hand firmly. He had the hands of a warrior. Large, strong and calloused. "You speak for the Inquisition on this matter?" he asked, looking first at Jen, then the rest of the party.

"I believe so yes." Jen waited to be contradicted, but no one did. In fact Cassandra looked at her encouragingly. Her brown eyes softened and Jen couldn't help but think that the Seeker looked pleased. It seemed that the group looked to her for leadership and more surprisingly, Cassandra trusted her to do it. When did this happen?

"We should speak about terms," Iron Bull looked over towards the beach. "The rest of you, feel free to join Krem and have an ale or two."

"Don't mind if I do!" replied Varric grinning.

"What is it exactly that you would like to discuss?" asked Jen, once the others had left them. There was something else about the Iron Bull; years of reading people had given her an instinct for the extra details. It also helped that he was a mercenary, but also something more. Given she had personal experience of that, something about the Qunari didn't settle right with her.

"You aren't just getting the Chargers, you are getting me and from what I hear, you are the only one who can close those rifts." he said confidently.

"You are well informed," said Jen guardedly.

"I wouldn't be very good at my job if I wasn't," he replied.

"What do you mean by that?" she frowned. "Is this to do with whatever it is that you are hiding?"

Bull looked down at her with a measured look.

"I am a Ben Hassarath." He said slowly.

Unable to help it, Jen couldn't prevent her surprise showing as she digested this information. Iron Bull, was a spy, but if that was the case why would he tell her this?

Crossing his arms Iron Bull continued, "You know, you intrigue me Herald. First, you see that there is more to me than meets the eye when normally all that anyone sees is a hulking Qunari brute. The second, you actually know what being a Ben Hassarath is don't you?"

Unable to come up with an answer that wasn't a blatant lie, she replied, "Yes. I do." Scrutinising him carefully, she added, "I cannot allow a spy to join the Inquisition and then report back to a foreign force on our plans. It seems that we are at an impasse." She could just imagine Josephine– and Leliana come to that– if she willingly admitted a spy into there midsts. Although her relationship with the calculating spymaster had improved, she didn't think she would survive unscathed.

However, to her astonishment Iron Bull roared with laughter. "I think we have a misunderstanding Herald! I told you this so that you can use it to your advantage. I'm not going to pass any of your secrets on despite what is expected of me, because I am here and I know that you and the Inquisition need help not hinderance. This is beyond the politics of different peoples, this is about survival for everyone and as far as I am aware the Inquisition is the only group with a chance of doing something about that hole in the sky."

"But we can't afford to pay you. Not yet, anyway," Jen muttered quietly. The rain had finally abated and Jen watched the others of her party enjoying the ale with the Chargers. Varric, already in the thick of it had pulled out a pack of cards to play Krem and some of the others. Behind him Cassandra watched trying to appear disapproving, but she seemed happy none the less to watch the game unfold. The only one missing was Solas, who had moved to sit on a rock and stare out at the sea. It occurred to Jen as she watched him how lonely he appeared as he clutched his mug of ale, and also how little she actually knew about the elven apostate.

"It seems they are getting to know each other," said Iron Bull looking satisfied. "And don't worry about the money yet, you are a fledgling group. You must have people who can pull strings, call in favours and start earning gold quickly?" Thinking of Leliana and Josephine, she nodded. "We shall claim our recompense once you are set up properly. We aren't cheap though!" He boomed.

"Right then," Jen held out her hand, "if you are willing to allow your reports to the Ben Hassarath to be checked before they are sent, I will find the gold to pay you for your services."

"Sounds good to me," grinned Bull, taking her hand once again in his own.

"Welcome to the Inquisition Iron Bull," Jen allowed herself to smile up at him meeting his one good eye, with her own.

"Thanks Boss."


	10. Chapter 10

It was strange. Jen saw herself as an outcast and a murderer without a conscience. Yet here she was, in Haven, the headquarters of the inquisition, named as Andraste's Herald and allowed the responsibility of recruiting others to their cause. It seemed, for the first time in her life she was finding purpose.

Although with that, the awakening of herself continued. On their return from the Storm Coast Cullen had been waiting to meet the Chargers and direct them to the training grounds where tents had been erected for them. He had smiled at her, told her well done for the success of the mission. It had made her feel lost again, empty. She needed to talk to someone about what she had done. To come up with a way of confessing to Cullen. The weight of it was pulling her down, constricting. Leliana had offered to hear her tale in its entirety, but Jen still wasn't sure if she could trust others yet.

Being alone had never felt like a burden to her before.

Her thoughts shifted. There was another here in Haven who seemed to be alone. One who she trusted to cover her in a fight, yet she knew next to nothing about. She glanced down at the mark on her left hand, which was dormant for now. Solas knew much about the fade and also knew plenty about her mark. She wondered how he had acquired that knowledge; there were so many questions about the quiet apostate that really, she should have begun to address by now. Also, it was probably high time that she began working to understand the mark on her hand rather than waving it blindly and hoping it would do what she wanted.

Deciding there and then, she stood up from the edge of her bed where she had been sitting and pulled on her black leather coat. Striding to the door she pulled up the hood against the weather that awaited her and set off in search of Solas.

It didn't take her long to find him.

"Hello Herald, is there anything you need?" he asked once she had found him standing outside his cabin and approached.

"There is nothing that I need in particular Solas thank you, but please call me Jen or Jennifer rather than Herald if you can."

He frowned, "Aren't you getting used to the title yet? You seem to be taking much more of a lead recently during our missions."

Laughing Jen replied "Well I suppose that is true, but I don't wish for anyone to think of me as something I have no proof of being." Solas looked faintly surprised at the admission, but also something else. Pleased, possibly. "Besides, I am not a believer. Faith is something I have always struggled with and I do not wish to be perceived as a hypocrite."

"A fair statement Jennifer and something I can understand I think." His eyes became distant as he spoke. Returning to her with a slight shake of his head, he continued, "You say that there is nothing in particular I can help you with, yet you sought me out. Is something bothering you? Would you like to join me for tea in my cabin?"

"That would be nice thank you," responded Jen nervously.

They entered his cabin and as Jen suspected, it was very neat and tidy, containing few possessions. He busied himself preparing tea for the both of them and once done, settled himself at the table, a steaming mug in front of him and the other set out for her. She joined him and took a sip of the comforting drink.

"Thank you Solas," she said with a smile.

He nodded in assent. "So, how can I help you Jennifer?"

"I was wondering if you could explain a bit more about the mark and how it interacts with the fade?"

"May I ask why the change? Before all you wanted to know is if would kill you or not?" She thought he looked guarded at the request and she couldn't help but wonder why.

"Before, I was scared and overwhelmed," she replied honestly, "but now I have had time to digest things, I have questions."

His expression lightened considerably, clearly she had said the right thing.

"I believe that the mark is a tool which has the ability to pierce the fade — to stitch it back together as you have used it thus far — but also to breach it." Jen couldn't help but inspect her hand at his words. For the moment the green mark lay dormant.

"Why would anyone want to enter the fade physically?"

"I don't know, but it worries me." There was a flash of anger in Solas' eyes, only there for a moment. "The fade is a wonderful place. I visit in dreams and the spirits tell me the history of the different places I visit in this world, there is always new knowledge to uncover." For the first time since she had met him, Solas looked wistful, happy even.

"I would like to learn more of the fade if you would show me?" She asked slowly, wanting to understand more about the elf and what it was about his connection to the fade that had led him to live his life as an apostate alone.

"Perhaps," he replied with a careful smile playing on his lips.

"That is good enough for the moment, I think Solas." He nodded in assent. "Also, thank you for the tea, but I must be going now. We leave for Val Royeux this afternoon and I need to get ready. Would you consent to be part of the party?"

"I would be delighted Jennifer."

"Good."

She left as gracefully as her training had taught her to be, yet her footfalls felt heavier than before. True, Solas loved the fade and she believed that some of his knowledge came from the spirits he met there. But there was more to him, his knowledge of the mark seemed extensive, yet so far no one else had scratched the surface of its mysteries. Jen had learned as a teenager to recognise when someone was holding back information and Solas was holding back more than anyone she had ever met.


	11. Chapter 11

Val Royeux was exactly as Jen remembered it, a shining beacon of wealth and affluence obscuring one of the darkest pits of hedonism and violence she had ever known. It was the root from where The Game originated and through its sick growth children like her were put to work; they were manipulated to help bring down those of a higher class who would never see a child coming. It was where Majorlaine had attempted to push her influence.

Immediately upon entering the city gates her small party of Cassandra, Varric and Solas was accosted by an Inquisition scout warning of trouble ahead and the poor likelihood of a positive welcome. A poor omen that decided to manifest itself mere moments after leaving the scout.

In the courtyard a Chantry Sister was publicly renouncing the Inquisition loudly at the top of her voice. A crowd had gathered, eager to see what was happening. When Jen challenged her, she levelled further accusations at them and told them the Chantry would never endorse them.

"That is not for you to decide!" shouted Cassandra angrily stepping forward for the first time.

The crowd rippled with hushed whispers, some pointed at the Seeker, clearly recognising her and her position as the Right Hand of the former Divine.

"You are quite right," stated a cool voice, which Jen searched for the source of. A man had entered the courtyard wearing brilliantly shining silver armour emblazoned with an eye, just like Cassandra's.

He strode towards the chantry Sister and held up his hand to summon two men to join him. Templars. He looked coldly at the Sister for a moment, then signalled with his hand. Immediately one of the Templars jumped onto the stage and punched the Chantry Sister squarely in gut with his gauntleted fist. There was silence as she dropped to the floor with a whimper of pain.

"Hear us now!" he shouted into the silence. "No more will we be chained to the Chantry as their puppets."

He turned and walked away his fellow Templars following.

"Lord Seeker Lucius?" questioned Cassandra loudly, confusion and a little disgust present in her voice. "What is the meaning of this?"

"You will not speak to me." Lucius stopped and turned, giving Cassandra a scathing look. "You who support a false prophet." For the first time his gaze fell on Jen, who stared back defiantly. "You are no better than the Chantry, erecting your own puppet to serve your own ends."

Anger began to build in Jen at his words. Cassandra looked visibly hurt. He was a Lord Seeker, probably a superior to Cassandra she thought. Another person in a position of power abusing their position.

"How dare you!" she growled with malice. "Cassandra has been integral in pulling the Inquisition together – invaluable in preventing the breach growing larger."

"Do not speak to me puppet." He spat at her feet and turned away with a sneer.

Something in Jen broke, her self control dissipated as fury consumed her. She stalked towards him, grasping his arm to spin him around and squared up to him threateningly. Their eyes met for a moment, and all Jen could think about was how they would look if she snapped his neck; if she watched the life vanish from them. Before she could act on this impulse however, a gauntleted hand landed on each of her shoulders and yanked her backwards to the ground. Rolling backwards quickly, she tried to rise, but the two Templars who had forced her back kicked her legs out from under her.

"Get off her!" shouted Varric angrily, stepping forward with Cassandra and Solas either side of him.

Lying panting on the floor Jen had only eyes for the Lord Seeker. She had tried hard to no longer be a mindless killer, but as she took in the Seekers pockmarked face and greasy long black hair, she knew that she wished to end him. But, here was not the time, nor the place.

He turned, satisfied that she wasn't going to rise again and signalled to his men. Without another word, they marched towards the gates. The Templars were leaving Val Royeux and as Jen took the hand that Cassandra offered, their eyes met and she knew that both her and the Seeker were thinking the same thing in that moment: more trouble was heading their way.

* * *

The long trip to Val Royeaux had – in the end – proven to be of worth to the Inquisition. On the lesser hand they had gained the services of a deadly, yet often baffling, Elf named Sera who for some reason thought that stealing the breeches of her enemies was more important initially than using the opportunity to kill them. On the greater hand, when to Jen's relief they had finally decided to depart Val Royeux she had been accosted by an elf who turned out to be no other than Grand Enchanter Fiona, leader of the Rebel Mages. Who despite being deliberately vague about the details, communicated that she would like a visit from the Inquisition at the current Rebel base in Redcliffe to discuss whether an agreement between the two parties could be made.

However, for the moment Jen was back in her usual spot in the tavern at Haven. The chatter and raucous voices of the trainee soldiers washed over her like a balm, because while there was noise she couldn't think clearly and that was bliss to her. Add to that the three pints of ale she had already consumed and the tavern was blurring nicely. She was struggling with control. Not something she had ever had much of a problem with before, but perhaps when you can kill when you like, you don't need restraint.

"Hello again Herald of–" Jen looked up at the tall blonde Elf approaching her with a raise eyebrow "–thingy!" Sera finished dramatically, falling into the chair opposite Jen.

"What do you want Sera?" sighed Jen, not bothering in her drunken state to be polite. Sera was, there was no other word for it, strange. And Jen wasn't sure that she was in the mood to put up with strange right now.

"Wanted to talk to yer, miss prissy-pants. Want to know if yer will look after the little people, or look down yer nose at them like every other noble."

'I'm not a proper noble Sera," she replied flatly, "I've lived more of my life without any privilege than I have with it. I just have a worthless title. Besides, who are the little people?"

Jen held up a hand to get the attention of a serving girl. Taking another tankard and mumbling a quick thanks to the pretty blonde, followed by a large gulp of ale that made her head spin, she continued. "Are they Dwarves?" she asked, confused.

Sera eyed her blankly for a moment with such confusion on her face that she almost looked in pain. Eventually coming to a decision, Sera snapped out of her revery and loudly called over the same serving girl who had just left them, taking four tankards from her.

"What are those for?"

"If yer can't beat 'em, join 'em." Sera replied before downing two of the tankards in quick succession. She wiped her mouth on the sleeve of her orange long sleeved top with a grin.

"Now, why are yer here all alone Herald? Something getting to yer?"

"You could say that," mumbled Jen almost inaudibly.

"What did yer say?" asked Sera who was somehow managing to look puzzled while chugging on her her third ale.

"It doesn't matter Sera, why all the questions?" replied Jen, her tone turning icy in an attempt to get Sera to drop it.

Leaning back in her chair for a moment, Sera surveyed her in the same way she might a slug.

"That was very nobley for a non-noble," she said finally.

"Do you always hold people accountable for their birth when you don't know a single thing about them?" Jen snapped.

To her surprise Sera laughed. "Ah much better Herald, was beginning to think you had no backbone. You looked so depressed when we met and you didn't laugh at my breeches prank once!"

"That's probably because it was absolutely bizarre Sera," she sighed turning to her own ale and taking a good swig.

"There you go, all mopey again! My head tells me you have something about you," Jen frowned darkly at her, "yeh, there you go, something dangerous that you are hiding. But then another minute, you look like you are – unravelling or something?"

Damn, Sera was more perceptive than Jen thought she would be. That exactly described how she felt right now.

"What would you recommend to stop me… unravelling Sera?" she asked, taking a moment to properly look at her for the first time. At first Jen had thought her short blonde bob hair cut was a bit strange, but it was growing on her now. It suited Sera's personality and Jen hadn't noticed how strong and sinewy her arms were, undoubtably a product of her archery skills.

"Ha! That's easy Herald. More drinking!" she shouted standing now and waving over at the barmaid who seemed happy to oblige.

An hour later Jen was very drunk. Possibly the most drunk she had ever been in her life, because drinking like everything else in her life had been a tool for her to use, nothing more. Sera had moved around the table to her at some point and was showing her a tattoo of a bumblebee she had at the top of her hip.

"Why— did you get that?" asked Jen trying not to slur.

"Cos, bees are good for getting nobles. Put 'em in grenades. Bang!" said Sera as though it was obvious.

"Woah there Herald" Sera grabbed Jen's arm, preventing her from slipping sideways off her chair and draped it around her shoulders.

Sera even smelled of beeswax Jen thought idly as the room began to spin and her head slumped onto Sera's shoulder.

"I'm tired Sera." Jen moaned, her head was beginning to pound and all in all she felt pathetic. "I don't think drinking is unravelling me – it's just making me – mushy."

"Need help unravelling eh?" Jen lifted her head for a moment to see Sera looking down at her with a wicked look in her eye. Her eyes, in fact, were wandering south of Jen's face.

"Oi, not that unravelling. I don't do that anymore," replied Jen indignantly.

"What do yer mean anymore?"

"Used to, I could get anyone," she hiccuped, ruining the wink she sent Sera's way.

"But yer don't anymore?"

"No. It went wrong." Roderick, no she didn't want to think about him right now. Tears were too close when she was so drunk. Something must have twisted in her face because Sera pulled her to her feet, Jen's arm still around her shoulders and said gently, "Come on, let's get ya home."

They staggered out of the tavern and headed down the compacted snow trail to Jen's cabin. Her head swam as she held on desperately to the soft wool of Sera's jumper. It must have been late, because luckily no one was around to see her in such a state.

"Are yer alright from here? Or would you like help to the door?" asked Sera.

"I will be alright now, thank you," Jen replied taking an unsteady step forward.


	12. Chapter 12

Regretting her actions the night before immediately, the following morning Jen set about punishing her lack of control by pushing herself to perform the task that Leliana had mentioned to her. Finding Warden Blackwall and solving the mystery of the disappearing Grey Wardens. She threw herself into the task, acting like a woman possessed and demanding that Iron Bull, Varric and Solas be ready one hour after first light.

She thought that Varric and Solas looked concerned at her manic behaviour, but Iron Bull merely looked amused. Whether he had been taught something similar, she didn't know. However, she suspected that he recognised someone trying to regain control through their work. For years her work had been more than enough for her, hopefully it would continue to bring her solace.

Sadly she was wrong. Warden Blackwall turned out to be a mild mannered man, who had a steady head on his shoulders and would be an asset to training the Inquisition's army, along with helping her own scouting parties. However, he knew next to nothing about the Grey Warden disappearance having been on his own for a long time, and with his unkempt black hair and slightly shabby appearance Jen was inclined to believe him.

It was disappointing and not the distraction that she needed, especially as the bandits that ambushed them had been so pathetic Jen had been able to dispatch all but two of the ten herself. Even Bull's praise didn't cheer her and she couldn't help but feel that Leliana was going to be disappointed with Blackwall.

The light was fading by the time Jen's small party returned to Haven. At the gates Bull had bidden farewell and returned to his Chargers; Varric and Solas also drifting off not long after. Jen's legs felt heavy, beginning to protest at how she had treated them that day. She had really pushed herself hard against the bandits. Just as she was about to enter her cabin she heard a shout behind her.

"Lady Trevelyan!" wincing internally she turned. A breathless scout was running down the track towards her. He was young, perhaps only 16 with short dark hair and the wiry build of someone who had grown very quickly in a short period of time.

"My Lady," he said saluting smartly. "Sister Nightingale requests your presence at the scouts tent immediately. She wishes to be debriefed on your latest journey."

Ah of course, she would want to know if she had discovered anything further about the Wardens. "Tell Leliana I will be with her shortly," Jen said curtly, turning back towards her cabin.

Upon entering she gazed longingly at the bed for a good minute before shaking herself and turning to the washstand. She peeled off the layers of supple leather encasing her body, then the softer cotton shirt and breeches she wore underneath. Carefully removing her underclothes, she stood for a moment marvelling at how her already strong body appeared even more toned. Undoubtably a product of all the tasks that a "Herald of Andraste" was expected to perform for the Inquisition.

Taking a cloth and lemon soap, she worked up a lather before methodically washing away the grime from her face and body. It felt so good to be clean again even if the chill of the winter in Haven was starting to grip her. She cast around, looking for fresh clothes and dressed quickly into her black jacket and trousers.

Jen burst through the door, hood pulled up against the snow that was falling and made her way purposely through the darkening town to Leliana's tent. She could hear voices inside and stopped outside to listen.

"What do you mean that you still aren't certain who the leak is?" said Leliana's voice angrily.

"Sister, we are narrowing it down, we just need more time!" replied the panicked voice of the young scout Jen had met half an hour before.

"You have until sunset tomorrow, you understand? No?" Leliana sounded very severe.

"Yes, I understand Sister. I will do it."

Jen stepped away from the tent opening and back into the shadows as the scout left the tent with a determined expression on his face.

"You can come in now Jennifer," sighed Leliana wearily from inside the tent.

Jen peeled the heavy woven fabric apart and entered the tent, instantly feeling warmed by the fire crackling away in the centre. Leliana was sat slumped in a chair behind her desk. She looked exhausted.

"I'd ask you how you knew it was me out there," said Jen as she sat on the vacant chair in front of the desk, "but after our talk in my cabin, I already know."

Leliana observed her for a moment. "Precisely. Raven."

Jen inclined her head.

"Since you know that I heard, what was that about before? Do we have a leak?"

Leliana closed her eyes for a second, gathering herself and looking wearier still.

"Yes, we have a leak. They passed information to the bandits on the Storm Coast, information that resulted in the death of five of our soldiers. It looks as though they did it for a quick payout, but I am not so sure. I worry that there is more at stake than it seems. That or I am becoming paranoid," she chuckled dryly. "Either way the action requires justice."

Jen studied the tightening of the Spymasters jaw, the slight clenching of her fist that lay upon the desk.

"You already know who the leak is, don't you?"

"I do." Leliana stated darkly.

"So why haven't you acted yet?"

"I want my scouts to become actively involved in the process, thus training them to be more vigilant and at the same time they are more involved to be affected by what happens when I am betrayed." Leliana's tone was so cold now. Jen knew that the Nightingale was ruthless, that was her reputation after all, but to see it first hand was unsettling. Particularly because it was like looking into a mirror and she didn't want to examine that too closely.

"Is death the only option here?" she asked quietly.

Leliana laughed softly. "You really are trying to change aren't you?"

"I just think that there are other – more creative ways to make an example. That's all." Replied Jen nonchalantly.

"But as you are aware, those methods can come back to haunt you. My choice is definite and permanent."

"I know I can hardly criticise, but I thought the Inquisition was supposed to be built on better ideals than those of Marjolaine's."

Leliana's eyes narrowed dangerously at Jen's words. Worrying that she may have pushed the Spymaster too far Jen asked quickly, "Anyway, you wished to have a debrief on the Grey Warden aspect of my last trip?"

"Please." Leliana responded sweetly, apparently not best pleased.

"Blackwall will make an excellent addition to the Inquisition as he is a seasoned soldier and is very good a training recruits, which is what he was doing when we found him."

"I am right in sensing a 'but' here, no?"

"His knowledge of the Wardens whereabouts was–" she paused for a moment, "–disappointing."

A flicker of something, a strong emotion, passed over Leliana's face.

"He claimed that the Wardens would contact him if there was anything he needed to know. But," Jen took a moment to select her words carefully. "To me, something isn't right. I know nothing of the Wardens, but I think that he is not quite as he appears. I can't put my finger on it yet, however, something doesn't add up."

"If that is the case I will try to find out more about Warden Blackwall," Leliana responded.

"Can I ask what your interest with the Warden's is Leliana?" The question escaped Jen before she realised what she had said. Old habits searching for any further information clearly hadn't left her.

It was as though a mask suddenly slipped away from Leliana's face, the carefully controlled expression disintegrating and leaving behind it the eyes of a woman who looked lost and worried.

"I will tell you a little in good faith, given how much you confided in me at my demands. But I will not tell anymore than I wish, the same courtesy I extended to you remember."

Jen nodded.

"I'm surprised you don't already know this, but I told you that meeting the Warden during the blight taught me that I could find redemption for those things I had done when I was with Marjolaine?"

"Yes, I remember." Jen murmured.

"I was lost, broken, before I met Alessia Cousland. And confused because despite what I knew in my mind, part of me still couldn't believe that Marjolaine had betrayed me. I had loved her you see."

Jen couldn't help it, her hands clenched at that admission. Leliana had loved that woman, it angered and disgusted her.

"Do not judge me in that way, you who knew Marjolaine's charms. I was young," Leliana admonished.

"Anyway, to cut a long story short, in amongst the death and horror of the blight I began to reawaken in the presence of Alessia who showed me a great kindness and what I really needed from another: to be trusted by them. And slowly as the memory of Marjolaine fell away to the Warden's kindness, I fell for her. Luckily for me, she reciprocated."

The story reminded Jen of her own past with Roderick, particularly the word reawaken that Leliana had used.

"Alessia has been affected by the calling, but she believes it to be fake and six months ago set off to try and find a cure. Three months ago was the last time I received a letter from her."

Silence fell between them at this, it hung uncomfortably. Leliana took a deep breath and suddenly the hardened Spymaster was back.

"Now you know. Thank you for your report Jennifer, I must get back to the other tasks I have to deal with."

Hearing the finality in her voice Jen stood and pulled her hood back up, tucking her black hair in. Leliana also stood, turning her back on Jen and began rifling through the papers in the chest of draws to the side of her desk.

"Thank you for telling me that Leliana," Jen said to the Spymaster's back. "I will keep a look out for anything relating to the Grey Wardens." She continued in a softer tone, knowing that Leliana would hear.

"Please don't murder the leak. Do not return to the ways that we are both trying to escape from." Jen's voice cracked and she strode as fast as she could from the tent and into the night.


	13. Chapter 13

"Varric, I need your advice on something." It was the next morning, just after sunrise. The air was still crisp and Jen's breath fogged in front of her.

"Sure kid, what can I do for you?" asked Varric warmly.

A pointed note from Josephine had been waiting for her last night, asking for Jen to come to a decision on whether she wished to take up Fiona on her offer to speak with the Mages, or whether she wished to take Cullen's advice and seek out the Templars instead.

Jen already knew what she wished to do, the Templars had made it clear that they wanted nothing to do with the Inquisition when she met them in Val Royeaux, but she needed help with talking the others around to her way of thinking. Particularly Cullen.

"I am going to tell my advisors that I want to go to Redcliffe to speak with Fiona. Solas has told me that I will need help to close the breach and who better than Mages to help. The problem I have is –"

"Curly will want you to go after the Templars instead?" interjected Varric wryly.

"Exactly! Wait – Curly?" laughed Jen, realising what Varric had just said.

"Cullen's nickname, curtesy of myself," said Varric proudly. "I've known of Cullen since my time in Kirkwall, which incidentally didn't work out so well for him."

"How so?" asked Jen, trying her best to sound casual.

"Cullen eventually, due to Hawke I think, realised that following orders blindly doesn't help anyone if the person ordering you about is batshit crazy. Regardless, I am not surprised he would rather trust his old brethren than the Mages. Cullen is a good man despite his faults, but he has grown up in an environment where Mages must be watched or suffer the consequences. It's natural for him to ally with the Templars."

Varric studied the lack of surprise on Jen's face, "But you already knew that, so what do you want from me?"

"How do you think I should convince him to get behind my plan?" Jen asked, not looking at him as she stretched her hands out over the fire in front of his tent.

"Why are you asking that? You have the mark, he will listen to you, especially if the others do."

"I don't want to just throw out orders or shout myself hoarse until he does what I say. I want him to see that I am doing this for the right reasons," she murmured. After all she had done that had hurt him, she owed it to him to be transparent.

"What is this really about Kid?" Varric asked cautiously, peering up at her.

"I want to be better."

Varric raised an eyebrow,"There is definitely more here than you are letting on."

 _Shit, please stop prying Varric._ She wasn't ready yet. However she was getting better, so instead of deflecting with a shout of anger, she chose to use a truth: just not the one that mattered.

"It is what we spoke about before. The burden of being the 'Herald' gets harder every day, but I want to be equal to it," She paused. _Now to play on his vulnerabilities._ "You said before that Hawke went through this? I've never had to work this way before. I'm a merc, you fight, you do your bit and you get paid. But even I can see that for something this big to work, you need the people around you to trust you, not just follow. How did Hawke get that?"

Varric sighed, "Why do I always get stuck with capable people that are filled with self-doubt? I should really make my next book a self-help book!" Jen chuckled slightly at this, but inside was waiting for his opinion.

"Trust," Varric said softly looking into the flames, not at Jen. "People need to know that when you say you will help them, you do. That when they need you, you are there," he looked up, his brown eyes meeting her violet ones, "because if you do that they will be there for you. Lead by example and everything else will fall into place." His tone changed and he seemed to be reminiscing.

"Thanks Varric."

Jen left, leaving him to his thoughts. He seemed to trust her already; so did Cassandra and some of the others. She never meant to have the mark, or be in this position, but it seemed that she was the only person who could close the breach. She grimaced and picked up the pace, feeling sick to her stomach as she headed down to the practice grounds in search of the Commander.

Unfortunately, fate – or the Maker – or anyone else that fancied a laugh had decided to place her in a position where she had to inspire trust. Her! Sadly for the Inquisition, she was the antithesis of trustworthy and it felt like the Maker had screwed them all.

"Herald, is there something I can help you with?" Cullen asked cautiously, cleaning his throat. Internally Jen started, realising that she had stormed over to Cullen wrapped deep in thought and had taken in nothing of the walk from Varric's tent down to the practice yard. Not good. She couldn't remember the last time that she hadn't been aware of her surroundings. If this continued she would end up putting herself at risk, she knew better than this. It had been beaten into her.

"Herald?" Cullen questioned again taking a step towards her, his footstep crunching loudly in the hardened morning snow.

"Stop calling me Herald," Jen snapped automatically then took a breath to calm herself, "I'm sorry Commander, I didn't mean it quite like that, please call me my name. The whole 'Herald' thing is a bit much for me at the moment," she apologised, trying to make eye contact with him, but failing to meet it for more than a few moments.

"Of course, Jennifer," he said slowly as though trying out the name on his tongue.

"Thank you," she said earnestly, wondering what right she had to make any demands of him.

He looked at her pointedly for a few moments.

"Oh right, yes," stuttered Jen, taking the hint, "I came to, well warn you really, before the meeting. I am going to go to Redcliffe and speak with Fiona."

Cullen stiffened at this and opened his mouth. Jen however held up her hand, "Please let me try and justify this to you, as I know the arguments you will make." He closed it again, but Jen thought that he looked angry.

"I know that I need more power to close the breach, and I know that you will say the Templars can prove this as equally as the Mages. However, the Mages came to me and asked for help. The Templars on the other hand made it very clear that they didn't want to collaborate. Now I don't trust Fiona," she looked up at him, willing him to see the earnestness in her countenance, "but she asked to talk and if we don't at least talk to them, I'm not sure who else will be willing."

"You make a good point," replied Cullen evenly, "but you forget that uncontrolled Mages may become abominations!" His voice rose as the anger he held burst through. "You don't know what that can do Herald, I have seen it. We risk a time bomb if we allow the Mages to come here unchecked!" Jen didn't miss how his fists clenched and his voice shook.

"I am aware of that thank you," said Jen heatedly, "but I refuse to see that they cannot regulate themselves."

Cullen scoffed. "Now you sound like Leliana."

"Is that a bad thing?" asked Jen, raising her eyes to meet his. This time her gaze didn't falter. She would be damned if she were to let a good man fall to prejudice, regardless of how she had damaged him. They stood for a moment, her violet eyes challenging his darker honey toned ones until slowly, near imperceptibly, his softened.

She took a step closer. "Cullen, I need you to trust me, or at least believe that I am trying to do the best I can with the information I have been given."

She took a breath to steady herself, "I have not always been a good person." Jen didn't miss the puzzled look that passed over his face. "But I live in this world like you, I know what rides on my choices. I have enough self-doubt for any of us, but once I have made a decision I need good people like you to support it – I need help."

He sighed, looking pained. "I would always have supported you, and I am sorry that I have made you think otherwise," he said wearily. "I just want you to make the right choice, but I can see that we disagree as to what that is."

"I'm sorry, I have made my decision," Jen stated firmly. "I will make it known to the rest of the advisors in one hour at the meeting, I expect you to be there."

She didn't give him a chance to respond, she turned and walked away.

* * *

Despite Cullen's continued glowering, Leliana and Josephine – although more hesitantly – supported the decision. Once she had decided that Cassandra, Iron Bull, Varric and Solas would all accompany her they set off as quickly as they were able.

Redcliffe, it transpired, was not quite the welcoming town that they had hoped. In fact, when they approached Scout Harding, she warned them that no one from Redcliffe seemed to know the were coming.

Exchanging a significant glance with Cassandra, they pushed on from the scout camp. They were marching up the road towards the outer gates when Jen realised her mark was beginning to glow.

"Stop!" she shouted anxiously to the others who had moved ahead of her.

"What's up Boss?" Iron Bull asked, his one eye widening as he took in her glowing arm.

There was the whistle of steel as Cassandra drew her sword and Varric and Solas fanned out into defensive positions.

"Can you sense where the rift is?" Solas asked.

Closing her eyes for a moment, Jen focused on her left hand. It pulsed subtly, feeling as though it was pulling her ahead towards Redcliffe.

"It's up the road ahead," she replied.

Following the dirt road to the rift, Jen quickly realised something was wrong. There was the usual shouting and panicking, a guard running towards the gate to the Redcliffe's gate ordering it to be closed as he was chased by a terror that had pulled itself out of the ground just behind him. As Jen unsheathed her daggers and moved forward with Bull and Cassandra either side of her, the Terror caught her eye seeming to flicker and then to move as though in slow motion.

Pausing for a fraction of a second, her concentration on the convulsing air at the bottom of the fade rift, she pulled a knife from her belt and threw it at the Terror. She ran forwards, eyes not leaving the dagger, it hit the Terror, but not before slowing rapidly to match its targets speed.

"Solas! Something is wrong here with this rift!" she shouted in panic.

"Stay away from where the rift is convulsing the air around it!" he replied sounding equally harried.

Cassandra and Iron Bull however, were already engaging Terrors and Shades and did not hear the warning. A particularly strong blow sent Cassandra flying backwards into one of the corrupted areas, but instead of slowing, it accelerated her body faster flinging her with even greater speed across to the other side of the road. She didn't move.

Jen let out a shout, flowing forwards desperately fighting her way to Cassandra where the Shade that had dealt the initial blow to the Seeker was bearing down on her. Bolts from Bianca whistled past her ears, but though they hit the shade they didn't slow it. Jen wasn't going to reach her in time.

There was a roar, a Qunari battle cry and then Bull was there in a speed faster than was possible, his axe hit the shade square on its back with a sickening crunch. It crumpled.

"How?" asked Jen panting.

Bull just chuckled gleefully, then threw himself into the same corrupted spot that he had just used, flinging himself forward with impossible speed and cracking his axe across the head of a Terror as he zoomed past.

Allowing herself a second to roll her eyes, Jen raised her arm to the rift. Her hand throbbed with the power of the mark as she willed the rift to close, until it exploded loudly.

Instantly she turned back to the Seeker, who was still lying in the dust, groaning softly as she held her hands tightly over a bleeding gash on her ribs.

"Solas!" Shouted Jen as she crouched down and put her hands over the Seeker's to help staunch the flow of blood.

"I'm fine Jennifer," said Cassandra whose face was becoming pale and clammy. "Just a scratch."

"Forgive me, but I know a fair bit about getting injured and that is not just a scratch."

"Herald," began Solas as he bent down to begin working magic into Cassandra's wound. Jen allowed him to replace her hands with his own and watched in fascination as a faint white light emitted from his palms caused the injury to begin knitting itself back together. "There is something very wrong with the magic here," he continued, brow furrowed in concentration. "It is as though time is unravelling. This mixed with a thin veil – it's not good at all." He looked up at her, frowning.

"What do you advise?" asked Jen.

"Caution." Solas replied bluntly.

"No other insights than that?" she questioned, carefully. She didn't want Solas to be aware of the fact that she thought he was keeping back information, but it was frustrating to not know why he acted that way.

"There you are Cassandra, you should be well enough to continue. But take care, you have lost more blood than I could replenish." He pulled the Seeker to her feet and Jen tried her best to hope that he wan't ignoring her question, but was concerned for their colleague.

"Thank you," replied Cassandra gruffly.

Studying the gates ahead, Jen watched as the soldiers manning the wall began to move to raise the portcullis.

"It looks like we are allowed to proceed," said Jen pointing.

The others gathered around her, waiting for her to say to move out. It was strange to be part of a group who looked to her to make these decisions. And what she was still struggling with was that they would look to her, when all of them were leaders or had lead previously. Especially Cassandra and Iron Bull. Probably a result of the mark. In the past she made the call in her head and then moved, without a single word passing her lips. It was tiresome to have to look out for other people, but she did admit grudgingly that had its advantages; it was also less... lonely.

"Did you all hear Solas before?" Cassandra nodded, but the others did not. "Solas?" Asked Jen, gesturing for him to speak.

The Elf appeared to take a moment to collect his thoughts before saying, "There is magic here that is disrupting the flow of time, that's why the tears in the fade appeared to either slow you down or speed you up as you moved through them." He looked particularly at Cassandra and Iron Bull.

"So we have a weak veil and now time is unravelling too? Well shit," said Varric, crossing arms.

"Yeah, it's not great I agree," replied Jen. "Solas, this magic influencing time. Is it being caused by a Mage or some influence in Redcliffe?"

"It would seem so, although I am not yet sure of the exact source."

"Great." Jen huffed, crossing her arms in frustration.

"Cheer up Kid, your luck isn't quite as bad as Hawkes' yet!" Varric quipped with a grin.

Jen punched him hard on the arm.


	14. Chapter 14

They began their approach to the gate, everyone seemed more alert than was normal even for them. The Iron Bull looked particularly unsettled, Jen made a mental note to speak to him when the others weren't around.

People stared as they passed by the statue of the Warden, Alessia Cousland, erected to commemorate her actions during the Blight. Jen had seen it before, but never had she noticed the set of the woman's jaw or the way her strong shoulders looked so burdened. Also, she could see how such a woman would be a good

Mages were also present, whispering between themselves and pointing particularly at Cassandra, who as the right hand of the dead Divine was the most well known of the party. There was an air of confusion and fear amongst the people in Redcliffe. It was making Jen want to reach for her twin daggers.

Eventually, they entered the tavern. It fell silent as they passed the threshold. The tavern was large, with a greater number of punters that Jen would have expected at mid afternoon. It smelt relatively clean, the underlying smell of stale alcohol kept to a minimum by what looked like fresh reeds on the floor. Striding through with her head held high Jen immediately zoned in on the diminutive elf with short cropped brown hair moved in front of them looking steadily at her.

"Herald? Why are you here?" Fiona challenged.

"I am here at you invitation," Jen replied evenly.

"I sent no invitation," said the Grand Enchanter confusedly, before schooling her expression to be unreadable.

"No you didn't send an invitation, you met with us yourself in Val Royeux and offered a parley."

"Why would I do that?"

"You tell me?" Jen asked sharply.

The muttering that had begun around them got louder.

"Well it is too late," Fiona's eyes cast around wildly at the other Rebel Mages in attendance, "we have had an offer from another for protection, and I accepted."

"Who else could offer you protection?" asked Jen, narrowing her eyes and exchanging a look with Cassandra, who just shook her head. Clearly she didn't know who would have either. In many circles the Rebel Mages were certainly lacking in popularity after what had happened in Kirkwall.

"I offered them protection." A deep voice uttered confidently. The Tavern fell silent again, as a man wearing yellow Tevinter Magisters robes stepped into the bar area of the tavern.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Herald, and the former Right Hand of the Divine as well! he sneered, his lip curling in arrogance.

Jen returned his affectations with a cool nod. It had not escaped her that the other members of her party had been completely ignored by the Magister. "Thank you Ser, forgive me, but who are you?"

The man drew himself up to his full height, which was not as great as the effect he was trying to create. "I am Gereon Alexius Magister of the Tevinter Imperium. I have provided protection for the Mages of Redcliffe." He looked very pleased with himself as he said it. Jen noticed that Fiona was looking at the floor, almost ashamedly. In fact, looking at Alexius' entourage that had followed him into the room – consisting of two guards and a younger man decked out in expensive Tevinter robes – the younger man also looked unsettled.

Seeing where Jen's attention had fallen, Alexius turned with a smile towards the younger Tevinter man. "Ah yes, how rude of me. Please allow me to introduce my son, Felix."

"A pleasure." Jen said, with a warmer smile directed to Felix than his father. "Now can I ask what the terms of this alliance were?"

"Why, ten years indentured service and upon completion, they will become citizens of the Empire," Alexius sneered, apparently barely able to contain his own self satisfaction.

"Slaves you mean?" cut in Cassandra disgustedly, her eyes narrowed.

"It is a standard practice within the Empire, Seeker."

"I am aware," replied Cassandra, her fists clenched at her sides as she barely controlled her rage, "But this is Ferelden, not Tevinter. You cannot impose this upon them."

"But a contract was written and Fiona has signed it." Unable to believe it, Jen cast her eyes again to Fiona. But the Grand Enchanter only continued to hang her head, refusing to meet the eyes of anyone there.

"Now, come Herald. I think we have much to discuss," smiled Alexius, gesturing to one of the unoccupied tables in the tavern and Jen reluctantly made her way towards it.

There was a rattling cough, wheezing gasp. Alexius whirled around in panic, and Jen followed just as Felix hit her squarely in the chest and she caught him in her arms. He was struggling for breath, eyes wide in alarm. Their eyes met for a moment, he seemed to be trying to tell her something as she felt a pressure on the pocket of her breeches.

"Felix!" Alexius was pulling his son out of Jen's arms, the smug expression replaced by worry. " Herald, I'm afraid my son needs treatment for a fever he is just overcoming, we shall talk tomorrow."

And with that the Magister swept from the room, guards leaving the room just after him.

"What was that about?" asked Cassandra anger still present in her voice.

Reaching into her pocket and pulling out a folded scrap of parchment that hadn't been there before, Jen replied, "I don't know, but I suspect we will soon find out."

* * *

The scribbled note from Felix had asked for a meeting after nightfall in Redcliffe Chantry. Amusingly, Bull had insisted that he went in her stead, convinced it was a trap. She appreciated his concern, but when coupled with Cassandra's misgivings they nearly succeeded in stopping her from going. In the end it was Varric's timely intervention that earned him a glower from the Seeker, but allowed Jen to go without having to sneak off on her own.

The Chantry at Redcliffe was quiet. It was a small chantry with few simple carved decorations in its masonry above the arches of the doors and windows. No one was around, which gave Jen pause as it was only an hour before evening prayers. Approaching quietly to the door, she pulled at the handle swinging it soundlessly open. Making a gesture for the others to follow - Cassandra still looked annoyed - Jen moved through the dark entrance hall to the heavy set of wooden doors that would lead to the main chamber.

Out of habit more than anything, she paused for a moment and pressed her ear up against the cold oak of the door.

She could hear breathing, one person. Maybe a man? Hard to know for sure. She could hear the gentle tapping of his foot; it seemed he was waiting for them.

Then there was a ripping noise that by now Jen was intimately acquainted with. The man gasped in shock, he began to run and with a shout she heard him begin to cast spells – a Mage.

"There's one man in there, a Mage, and a rift just opened!" shouted Jen at the others as she pulled her twin daggers free.

She hurtled into the room, jumping onto a plinth and then propelling herself into the air and down onto a demons back. Her daggers snuck in deep and it crumpled.

As expected the Mage was already on his feet, the obsidian staff in his hand glowing from the White quartz stone fixed at one end. Six demons were advancing on him and without turning, he shouted, "It's a pleasure to meet you Herald, but before we exchange greetings properly, would you mind giving me a hand?"

Without speaking Jen threw one of her knives at the demon closest to him, it caught it in the throat and instantly began to dissolve.

Cassandra and Bull sprinted past her, throwing themselves at the demons while Varric fired crossbow bolts as quickly as he could. Feeling Solas' shield upon her, Jen moved forward and raised her hand to the rift. Gritting her teeth as powerful spasms ran down her arm, she maintained her concentration until it exploded.

"Fantastic!" shouted the stranger enthusiastically, turning to face her, "How does that work exactly?"

"Erm," replied Jen, glancing Solas way, but it seemed the Elf was busy examining the stained glass window at the end of the room.

"You don't know do you?" he said incredulously.

"Well I'm not a Mage, so magic is a little outside of my expertise," she responded with a frown.

"Oh well not to worry, I do love a new puzzle! And luckily for you, I'm not only the most handsome Altus in Tevinter, I'm also the cleverest!" he finished with a wink. Jen was forced to concede that he was a good looking man with his olive skin, strong nose and sharp cheek bones framing his brown eyes. His short brown hair was shaved at the sides and the slightly longer hair impeccably styled on top. To complete the look he had a small goatee and the most immaculately styled fine handlebar moustache she had ever seen.

"You aren't bad I suppose," replied Jen as she returned his wink.

He grinned at her, "Well now that's decided," he bowed quickly, "Dorian Pavus at your service."

"Jennifer Trevelyan, accidental Herald, wondering why you are meeting us here? Who are you Dorian Pavus?" She folded her arms.

"Ah, that's a fair question. I used to work for Alexius, he was my mentor," he said apprehensively.

"What?"

"He was different then, quite brilliant. And mostly pleasant — for a Tevinter Magister," he was staring past Jen, caught in a memory that caused the corner of his mouth to twitch in a slight smile. His expression darkened, "But then things changed."

"I became ill," interjected a voice matter-of-factly from the door.

Felix entered, he strode towards them carefully.

"You took your time," said Dorian reproachfully.

"Dad was fussing over me for ages, I've had too many dizzy spells recently," Felix replied apologetically.

"So, I'm not sure what Dorian has already said to you, but will you help us Herald?"

"Help you with what?" she asked slowly.

"Help us stop my Father. He is obsessed by you and your mark, I don't know why. But I do know that he has become tangled up in something dark – something terrible." Felix glanced at Dorian who nodded. "Have you heard of the Venatori?"

 **[A/N Thank you to those of you who have read, followed and favourited this story so far. I'm really chuffed by the number of people who are reading it and I hope you all have a Happy New Year!]**


	15. Chapter 15

Jen couldn't help but feel exhausted by the time her team returned to Redcliffe to report what they had discovered. She stared longingly at her cabin as she made her way up the winding path from Haven's gates to its Chantry. Refrozen snow continued to crunch under her boots as she trudged forwards, there couldn't have been any flurries in her absence as it looked to be the same depth as when they had left that morning.

"Cassandra, are you alright?" she asked the Seeker at her side. If she was feeling so knackered, she could hardly imagine how tired Cassandra was.

"I am fine thank you," replied the Seeker with her usual stoicism.

"You got run through earlier today. I wouldn't blame you if you decided to retire early tonight. Maker knows I want to." Jen finished with a mumble.

"I appreciate your concern truly," Cassandra reached out hesitantly, then with a weak smile patted Jen's shoulder. "But I will be fine."

Leliana, Josephine and Cullen were already assembled and waiting for them when Jen and Cassandra entered. Jen had told the others to go and get some rest.

"So what happened?" demanded Leliana immediately. "My scouts said that no one in Redcliffe was expecting you after all?"

"The Mages in Redcliffe are – for want of a better word – fucked." Jen responded tiredly. She noticed Josephine bristle at her language, but she didn't care; she could damn well swear when she wanted. It was wearing her down by how hard she was trying to be better.

"How so?" asked Leliana frustratedly.

Cassandra must have noticed that Jen wasn't in the mood, because she responded instead, telling them all of what had happened in Redcliffe. Letting Cassandra fill them in was a relief. She noticed Cullen glancing at her with undisguised concern, but she couldn't bring herself to care. At least he wasn't suggesting that she should have gone to the Templars for support. Instead she simply stood there listening to Cassandra speak of Alexius, the Venatori, Fiona until –

"Jennifer, what do you plan to do about the Rebels?" Repressing a huff of frustration, unwillingly Jen looked up at the four of them. Everyone was looking to her for guidance again. Part of her wanted to tell them to get stuffed.

"We can't leave them," she sighed. "All of them, even the children will be slaves to the Empire for ten years," her tone got more steely, "and I refuse to let that happen!"

She mentally shook herself, she could not condemn those children to that fate. Looking around the room at Leliana, Josephine, Cullen and Cassandra a thought struck her.

"Leliana, you know Redcliffe from your journey during the blight. Do you know of any other way in?"

"Yes," the Spymaster narrowed her eyes. "There is a way, I doubt the Venatori will know it. However only a small force could make it through unseen."

Smiling, Jen realised that a familiar problem was in front of her; she was uniquely qualified for the solution.

"Well if I walk in through the front door of Redcliffe castle to discuss further with Alexius the terms for the Mages, and if he is as fascinated with me and the mark as Felix said, that should provide an ample distraction so our force can enter."

There was silence, then Cassandra spoke, her arms crossed. "You can't, it is too great a risk! We cannot lose you."

"Trust me Cassandra, I am good at this sort of thing, although I wouldn't object you joining me if you wished?" she grinned at the Seeker who huffed loudly, but nodded all the same. Leliana caught Jen's eye and nodded imperceptibly. Their recent understanding appeared to have given the Spymaster more confidence in her abilities.

"I think it is an excellent plan," drawled a voice from the door, "I'd be delighted to join you and lend a hand!"

"Dorian?" said Jen, staring at the Mage, who was, as seemed his habit, immaculately dressed in tan leather battle robes that hugged his strong body.

"How did he get in here?" demanded Cullen angrily. A guard that was loitering behind Dorian paled at the reprimand. He spluttered before Dorian cut in.

"I merely explained to Tim here that I was in urgent need of speaking to Jennifer and I wished to aid your little endeavour. He was most helpful." A small smile played on his lips as Jen raised an eyebrow at him. The young guard – Tim apparently – blushed.

"Get outside and this time actually guard the door," said Cullen angrily to Tim, "I will speak with you later." Cullen moved to the door, stepped around a bemused Dorian and slammed it shut.

This was unusual behaviour from the Commander. He was a task master for sure and excellent at training the new recruits, but from what little Jen had observed of him, his temper was usually very even. In fact, as he stepped back into the room and resumed his position at the war table, palms resting firmly on the oak surface, the candle light caught his face. He looked drained, the lines in the corners of his eyes were deeper than before and the whites appeared to be slightly bloodshot.

This outburst hadn't gone unnoticed by the others, but while Josephine and Leliana's faces were carefully controlled, Cassandra openly showed concern for the commander. You could always rely on Cassandra's thoughts to be an open book.

Returning to the task at hand so she could get herself to bed that much sooner, Jen cleared her throat.

"Right. So myself, Cassandra, Dorian and Varric will approach Alexius head on and distract him. While this is happening a small task force will take out Alexius' guards, allowing us to take the Castle from him. That's the plan." She glared those gathered, daring them to challenge her decision. Luckily they did not, merely glancing at each other and nodding.

"I'm off to bed in that case. Josephine, would you kindly arrange for some quarters for Dorian?" she added as she paused to wrench the door open.

As she strode through the chantry hall she heard Dorian ask, "Is she always that blunt?"

It made her smile; she thought that she would get on with Dorian very well indeed.

* * *

 _"No!" she screamed. Her body was bruised as he raised the wooden cane towards her again. "No," she cried praying that the Maker – someone – anyone would save her._

 _"I will stop when you agree girl, that's all I need," the old man sneered. He brought the cane down on her again across her bare arm. He hit her so hard that she cried out and a red welt appeared immediately._

 _"_ _I won't!" she sobbed, tears streaming down her cheeks._

 _"Yes you will!" he shouted, spittle flying from his mouth. He hit her again, in the same place as before, this time breaking the skin._

 _It hurt her so much, the wounds were throbbing. She didn't know how to escape the situation. She didn't want to be weak, she wished she wasn't crying, but the pain was so much worse than anything she had ever experienced. Her fingers scrabbled at the floor as desperately, she tried to crawl away from him. His response was to stamp down on her back, slamming her to the floor. He then brought the cane down across her back, again and again._

 _"_ _You–" he brought the cane down, "– will do –" he did it again, "–what you are told!" he bellowed._

 _The pain was too much, she began to black out as she lay their on the floor, a cheek pressed against the cold stone and her dark hair falling about her face like a veil. It stopped her from seeing him._

"Jennifer!" Jen launched herself out of bed and with knife in hand, stood panting, eyes fixed on the door. She waited, trying to shake the images of a broken past, trying to focus on the shout at her door that had woken her.

There was a knock this time and the voice again shouted, "Jennifer?" But this time with a question at the end.

Relief flooded her system – she recognised that voice. Taking a moment to throw on her leather jacket and breeches over her nightshirt against the cold, she headed to the door while stowing her knife in her belt.

"How are you this evening Leliana?" Jen asked once she opened the door.

"I am well thank you," replied Leliana, her Orlesian accent thicker in that moment than Jen had ever heard it. "I wish to speak with you?" It was phrased as a question, but the Spymaster was already stepping forward as she said it.

"Of course." Jen let her pass, unable to suppress a wry smile.

"Do you usually wake people in the early hours of the morning?" she asked a little sleepily now the adrenaline was subsiding.

"I wished to speak with you before you set off tomorrow. I suspected you would be leaving at daybreak so I didn't want to leave it much later." Leliana took a seat at Jen's table, as she had on her last visit. Jen joined her, sitting opposite.

"Are you concerned about my plan – or the fact that I have chosen to ally the Inquisition with the Rebel Mages?"

"Neither. I know your skill set, I more fear for Alexius and the state you will leave him in." Her ice blue eyes pierced Jen.

"I'm not going to kill him," she said flatly.

"I know," Leliana said sweetly with a smile. "The way you begged for that traitors life was proof enough of that."

"Did you?" Jen didn't need to elaborate.

"No." The word hung between them, Leliana looked bitter.

"You resent me for it?"

"No... well a little." She avoided Jen's gaze, her brow furrowed. "If he were to find a way to betray us again, that's my fault. I was too weak to do what needed to be done."

"Really?" Jen scoffed, "I think we both know how easy killing is for us. We are different to innocents; for us to choose another path requires strength, not weakness."

Leliana glared at her, "Regardless Jennifer," emphasis was placed on her name, "this is not what I came here to discuss."

It was interesting how her and Leliana's relationship had developed so quickly from a deep distrust and snarky comments, to an unexpected understanding and unwillingly having found themselves in each other's confidences. However, Jen suspected it would be a long time until a trust was fully built and Leliana's feelings towards her would stop rocking between her initial impressions and the guilt that she felt towards the child Raven, that she failed to find.

"What then?" asked Jen wearily, running her hand through the front of her black hair.

"I have heard whispers – of someone I thought long gone." she said carefully.

"It's him Jennifer, if the rumours are true, he still lives."

Jen recoiled, she thought him dead years ago… otherwise she would have done it herself.

"Speak plainly Leliana, don't mess with me," she whispered.

"Yes, it is Benjamin. He lives."

A young girl cowering as an old man hits her again and again with a cane. She cries out. Jen shook herself.

"Do you know where he is?" she asked dangerously.

"No, the rumours are mere whispers on the wind at the moment. If I didn't know the little I do about your past, I would not have picked up on it."

Sitting back, for the first time since Jen had known her, Leliana pulled back her hood. Her red hair fell free from its constraints to the tops of her shoulders. She reached out across the table taking Jen's hand.

"What do you wish me to do?" asked Leliana softly.


	16. Chapter 16

Redcliffe Castle did not exude a welcoming aura as Jen, Dorian, Cassandra and Varric entered it. The large draughty entrance hall was lined with soldiers, their faces cast in shadow by the flickering torches fixed at intervals along the walls. As they reached a great archway with the main hall just ahead, Jen caught sight of a lone figure stood silhouetted against a fire crackling in an ornate marble fireplace.

"So you came, wishing to continue our negotiations?" whispered Alexius hoarsely turning towards them. His face was more lined than the day before, haggard with sunken eyes.

"Yes, although I do wonder how we will get past a few key points," replied Jen coldly. She was struggling to remain civil. She did not take kindly to slavers.

"Dorian?" Alexius had caught sight of the Mage.

"The very same," he stepped forward, level with Jen and his eyes narrowed as he took in Alexius' appearance. "How are you?" he asked. "How is Felix?"

"We are both well thank you," Alexius spat the words at Dorian, "But I am not here to speak with you, Altus." His eyes locked with Jen's. "I think it is time to be straight forward with you Herald, my time is running out. I need that mark of yours," he sighed and Jen felt Dorian stiffen. "I am going to take it now," he said simply.

Jen didn't move, instead she waited. No guards stepped forward to seize them, concentrating she heard a muffled thud at the end of the room. Then a gasp from closer by and a faint splutter. Alexius' calm expression turned to one of horror as he watched the guards around the room topple to the floor, one by one crumpling on impact with the flagstones. Leliana's team stepped out of the shadows behind each of the dead soldiers and Jen couldn't help but smile. The Nightingale was very good at her job.

"No!" shouted Alexius processing what had happened. "You will not – you must not – stop me!"

A greenish glow emanated from his hands as they worked a torrent of magic into a necklace he was holding, his face twisted in fury.

"Jennifer!" shouted Cassandra from behind her, Dorian uttered half a word as he began to move in front of her. Time slowed, whether by her training or Alexius's design she did not know, but in that moment Jen cursed herself for her stupidity of not acting to subdue Alexius faster, but it was too late. Dorian was unable to complete his counter curse before the two of them were hit by the green light and once more she was thrown into darkness.

* * *

She awoke. Lying on cold damp stone, she took a moment to process what had just happened. There was a rustling beside her and a muffled groan.

"Dorian?" she rolled over to see the Tevinter mage pull himself to his feet, then brushed the dirt of his robes with a displeased expression while tutting softly.

They were in a large stone room, with metal bars at one end – it looked like a dungeon. Maybe Alexius had managed to overpower them and they had been taken into his custody, but that didn't sit quite right with her.

"Dorian where are we?" He was running his long fingers over the stone walls as though sensing something within them.

He looked over at her, his expression grim, "I don't think that where is the most important question at the moment, I'm more concerned with when."

"Why do you say that?" Getting to her feet Jen strode over to the iron bars and took a moment to peer into the corridor beyond. It was deserted.

"The magic that Alexius hit us with was something I helped him to develop – this was before he became desperate to find a cure for Felix," he clarified at the suspicion that was obvious in Jen's expression.

"He was holding a necklace, did you see it?" Jen nodded, "to support the complexity of the spell, it required a matrix to bind to or in other words an anchor. If we get that necklace – if it still exists," his tone became darker, "I should be able to return us to our time."

Reaching for the rusted lock, Jen worked a small knife into the mechanism. It was so corroded that the inner workings disintegrated as she twisted it.

"Right then, let's go," she said as she swung the rusted gate open.

If ever again were she to be wracked with doubts over her role in the Inquisition, she would now only have to think of this terrible alternate future and remember that maybe her presence in the world wasn't so damaging to it. The more they discovered, the more she realised that her actions were keeping a horrific future at bay. Red lyrium infected everything, it was growing out of the walls, and it seemed from the notes – and even worse – scripture she had discovered, that everyone worshipped something called the Elder one. Everything the Inquisition had been trying to achieve, it seemed, had failed.

The halls were occupied by guards who glowed red with the lyrium they had consumed. They worked quickly through them, Jen taking out as many as she could by stealth, then once her cover was blown Dorian would storm in using his magic to destroy those remaining. Destroy was the best way to describe it, the Altus' brand of magic was incredibly powerful, allowing him to warp reality to control the guards or else terrify them so much that they were easy pickings. It seemed her new colleague was a necromancer, something she had only encountered once before.

They were both reasonably sure that they were in the dungeons of Redcliffe Castle, hopefully near to Alexius still. The livery of the soldiers they had killed confirmed he was the main occupant. Finally they made their way through another hallway to a larger stone room, it also contain cells like the one they had landed in.

Jen paused, she thought she had heard a soft moan. Holding up her hand to Dorian to wait, she moved to the cell furthest from them. Crystals of red lyrium glowed evilly from within it, small ones bursting out from the cell into the room, each nucleation point was smaller the further from the iron bars it was.

Looking beyond those bars Jen gasped in horror.

"What is it?!" Dorian snapped immediately, running to her side.

"Oh my," he said simply as he took in the massive crystals of Red lyrium, and what they appeared to be growing from.

"I'd like to say it isn't as bad as it looks," gasped Fiona hoarsely, "but I would be lying."

The former Grand Enchanter was fixed to the side of the stone wall by massive crystals of red lyrium which appeared to have burst from within her. Red welts marred her arms, with a brighter glow of red lyrium showing beneath. Her feet and calves had been consumed and only lyrium remained there. Her eyes also glowed red; it was as though the lyrium was eating her from the inside out and using her body as a source of sustenance from which to grow.

"You–" her red eyes widened as they fixed on Jen, "–you are meant to be dead!" Fiona seemed lost for words.

"We got hit by Alexius spell and sent into the future," said Dorian quickly. "Only minutes have passed for us since then. How long has it been?" he asked with trepidation.

"It has been a year to the day since we thought you both dead," whispered Fiona, her face twisting, barely able to disguise the agony she was in.

Dorian glanced at Jen. She was struggling to hide the horror she felt at seeing Fiona, her body mutilated by the red crystals.

"What happened to you Fiona?"

"Ha!" she barked roughly, "I am the result of one of Alexius' many experiments to discover the makeup of red Lyrium and also, how to create more." Fiona started coughing, her whole body spasmed violently. It took her half a minute to recover from the episode before continuing, "It turns out Red Lyrium is more addictive when consumed than blue, and that it grants great power in mages, while sending them mad." She laughed wildly.

"Not that you need to worry about that, after force feeding me a sufficient amount," her voice lowered, her expression became one of intense longing, "he took it away, leaving me in the throes of the worst withdrawal I have ever known. My mind began to unhinge, I think I must have broken for a while."

"But you are coherent at the moment?" asked Dorian slowly.

"I am, because eventually in the isolation of this cell I awakened. Red lyrium long passed out of my system, I became myself again. Then slowly, as though my veins were on fire, it began to erupt from me. The whispers returned, it sang to me as it burst from my flesh!"

Tears were streaming down Fiona's cheeks and Jen did not know what to do. She had not liked Fiona one bit, especially since she had agreed to the enslavement of every rebel Mage. But the pain – this torture she was now living – no one deserved this. And knowing a little more about the magic Alexius possessed, Fiona's decision may well have been made under its influence.

"Dorian, break open the cell for me." Jen murmured, unable to take her eyes off Fiona.

"I don't think that's wise, the lyrium–"

"Now Dorian!" Jen cut across him.

He sighed and then held up his staff, a shockwave burst from it blasting the cell doors open.

Stepping carefully to avoid the lyrium, Jen moved as close to Fiona as she could without touching her. From such a vicinity she could hear a faint hum from the lyrium under the former Grand Enchanters wracked breathing.

Pausing for a moment, Jen realised that what she was about to ask was difficult for her, when before it had never been a problem. Usually she gloried in taking a life, but this was different. To take a life in anger was so very different.

"Fiona," she whispered, her voice shaking. "I promise I will fix this wrong, so that you will never have to suffer." Fiona stiffened and her breathing slowed, her swollen eyes meeting Jen's. It seemed that she knew what Jen was going to offer.

"But here – now – I can't do anything to save you, I don't know how–" her voice cracked. Taking a steadying breath, she calmed herself and allowed a hardened version of herself to take hold, to do what must be done. "I can end it for you, so you no longer suffer." Her tone was almost cold.

Dorian stiffened, his expression appeared shocked at what Jen was offering, and as she glanced up she saw him take an imperceptible step backwards.

"Yes." There was silence for a moment that hung between them all. Jen unsheathed her dagger.

"Make him pay," Fiona whispered just before Jen's dagger slid between her ribs into her heart. Carefully Jen pulled her dagger out, bright red blood flowed from the wound as the light left Fiona's eyes. Then slowly, she lowered the broken body of the former Grand Enchanter to the ground.


	17. Chapter 17

"Requiesce in pace," murmured a stricken Dorian his native Tevine. Stepping into the cell, he crouched over Fiona and lay his hand over her face, closing her eyes. Busying herself with cleaning her dagger, Jen turned away from him. The mechanics of this kill had been straightforward enough for her, but inside she was in turmoil. Once again she closed her eyes and forced the thoughts of her actions away, but she was aware of them now. It was as though the cage she visualised in her mind was under a great strain. She tried to banish the cage away, but she was aware of the monster in turmoil caught within it and the strength of it frightened her.

"Jen?" She had not realised that Dorian had approached her and was now stood at her side. Her awareness was not as it should be. Ignoring the mage for a moment, she cast out her senses in an effort to make up for it, listening hard. There was a faint creaking, a door maybe? Then a sharp metallic chime as metal scraped on stone.

"Dorian, there are more guards up ahead," she set herself, remembering the assassin that she was, "they don't know we are here yet. We could surprise them if we are quick!"

As she made for the door Jen caught a glance at the confusion on Dorian's face, along with hurt, but his jaw was set in determination. "After you then," he responded, as he followed after her.

They crept along the corridor, their bodies cast in partial darkness. The only light sources were torches placed in brackets at broken intervals. As they got closer to the solid oak door which was reinforced with painted black iron bars, Jen began to realise not only could she hear the occasional scuffle of movement from within. She pushed her ear to the door, pushing a hand through her sweaty hair to move it out of the way. Concentrating on the rhythmic humming she could hear, she realised the guards within were chanting, but it was not the chant of light.

"Dorian, they are chanting – no praying – to that thing we read about before," she whispered, "they are praying to the Elder One."

"What on earth has Alexius done?" Dorian hung his head disdainfully. Jen put her hand on his arm in an effort to comfort him, surprising herself in the process. For a moment, he stared down at her hand with a slight furrow in his brow and she thought he would throw it off. His dark grey eyes narrowed.

"You are a most intriguing woman Jennifer." Then he gestured for her to open the door.

She grasped cold metal door knob, feeling the vibration of metal scraping against metal beneath her palm. Controlling it's movement, it clicked softly as the pin was fully withdrawn. Holding her breath, she listened intently, but the chanting continued as before. She put her daggers quietly back in their sheathes and pulled two throwing knifes from her belt, before tiptoeing into the room.

All the guards present were prostrated on their knees facing a large stone altar at the opposite end of the room. The top of which was completely covered with old wax candles that had merged together as they had melted again and again. Cautiously she slipped behind a bookshelf, listening to chanting intently. It seemed that chant of light had been taken and twisted so that only the a few words remained the same. Everything in this dark future showed the Elder One's dominance.

She quickly peered around the shelf and counted the number of soldiers present, ten in total. Two of which were mages. Signalling to Dorian to stay where he was for the moment, she crawled behind a row of chairs which directly behind two rows of soldiers chanting; the noise they made masking her breathing. She closed her eyes, visualising what she was was about to do, then in one movement stood and threw her two knifes at the Venatori mages present.

They buried themselves in the back of the neck of each of them with a sickening thud, as the cold steel parted their flesh. Before they even began to crumple Jen let fly with two more knives, whilst she threw herself up and off one of the chairs, pulling her twin daggers free and sinking them into the backs of two more Venatori.

Six had already fallen, but she was now in amongst the rest as they finally were able to react to the situation, pulling their swords from their sheathes. Ducking under a blow aimed at her neck, she felt the battle rage rising within her. It was a reckless anger building within her, not the detached precision of a master assassin.

Another sword thrust came at her, she managed to turn it away with both of her daggers, but by doing this she was unable to get free to block a blow that came from behind her. She felt a burn as the sword sliced through her thin leather, raking across her ribs beneath, catching on the bone.

RECKLESS! Boomed Benjamin's voice in her head and she saw red. With a feral scream she threw herself at the perpetrator, pushing him to the floor with her crouched over him bringing down her daggers on every part of him she could reach, blood splattering her face.

She turned to the next and swept his legs out from under him, and cut his throat as he fell to the floor spluttering. Her side was on fire, but she didn't care, she had surrendered herself to the fight. Vaguely she was aware of Dorian taking out one of the other guards, she heard his scream of terror as Jen turned to face the final soldier. She couldn't make out his face beneath the helm he wore, but his eyes were wide with fear, glancing from her to the door in quick succession.

Jen smiled dangerously. He turned and ran, but she was too quick, and brought her twin daggers down into his back. He crumpled and Jen twisted them before pulling them out, a sickening moan came from the man beneath her. Then she brought them down again, again.

"Jennifer!" A hand grasped her wrist and Jen became aware of the blood from the soldier which was coating it.

"Jennifer, stop." Dorian spoke firmly as he held her wrists tighter and pulled her away.

"I – I–," she gasped in pain, dropping her daggers and putting her hands over the wound on her side.

"I can fix that," he muttered kindly. Placing his hand over her ribs, he closed his eyes. A warm white light was emitted from his palm, which passed into Jen causing a sharp intake of breath as she felt the tissues knit back together.

"I– I'm sorry Dorian," she said, unable to look at him.

"What you did for Fiona was a mercy you know," she couldn't help but look up at him in surprise. "I was only shocked because of the strength it takes to do what you did, I saw how hard it was. It was written on your face, and I'm not sure if I would have been able to do it." He carefully rearranged her damaged armour to cover the faint pink line that was all that was left of her injury.

"However, you can't lose your head like that again. We have to get back to stop all of this. Then we can process everything that we have seen and done here; once we are back in our time I sense you have quite a story, if you will tell it."

Thinking on everything Dorian had just said, Jen felt a little lighter. Her rage had burnt out and her respect for the Altus from Tevinter, of all places, grew further. Clearly observant, he had chosen to address what he had learned head on and the lack of judgement was refreshing. She knew that she carried guilt that was deserved, but Dorian was kind and it made her feel a little better.

"I will do you a service by saying I do have a story to tell," she said guardedly. Picking up her daggers from the floor, she put them back into their sheathes on her back. Her eyes locked with his, violet meeting grey. "But it is not a good story, nor one I necessarily will ever share in full. For now though, I appreciate all that you have said: let's go and fix this."

Another room of grey stone greeted them, she moved carefully through it. Then paused, listening.

She thought she could hear faint prayer, but it was not the dark chants they had heard up until now.

"What is it?" Dorian asked.

"I think – yes it is!" Jen turned to Dorian, unable to disguise her excitement, "someone is praying to the Maker, the chant of light Dorian. We may have allies yet down here!"

As they passed through a large stone archway, the prayer became louder, they were approaching its source.

"Cassandra!" Jen rushed over to the bars of yet another cell which held the Seeker. She looked thinner that Jen had ever known her, high cheekbones even more prominent in her state of malnutrition. Most worryingly of all there was red lyrium growing out of the walls in her cell. Cassandra was not a mage, so Jen didn't think she could be corrupted in the same way as Fiona, yet just being near to such evil for an extended period may have had an effect.

"You!" The Seeker's eyes were wild as she scrambled to her feet. "Am I dead? I prayed to the Maker for your return to us. How are you here?"

Jen reached out and grasped Cassandra's hand through the bars. "I am here Cassandra and I am going to get you out."

"Oi, Seeker, what's going on over there?"

Jen looked along the row of cells to see Varric craning his head through the bars. "Ah hello Kid, you're late!" he shouted gleefully.

Jen pulled out her knife and began working the lock on Cassandra's cell. "Dorian, free Varric while I get Cassandra out of here!" she ordered.

Focusing on the lock she worked the knife in, but it did not seem to be as rusted as the one she had opened earlier. Grunting in annoyance she pulled a small leather case from her belt and set to work with her lock picks. There was a bang from the other cell as Dorian broke the lock, freeing Varric. Then focusing on her own lock, with a click she felt all of the the pins recede and door swung inwards.

Varric and Dorian approached, it seemed that they had found Bianca and Cassandra's sword and shield. No one said anything for a moment, Cassandra looked overcome with emotion as she took back her belongings.

"So what happened Sparkles?" Varric asked, looking at Dorian.

"I believe that the spell that Alexius tried to cast was meant to wipe any trace of Jennifer here from existence. However, I managed to partially counter it, and it seems it sent us one year into the future instead." He paused, "So for us, it is like nothing has changed. Moments before we were with Alexius."

"So you know nothing of the last year? That the Empress Celene was assassinated and that we could not hold out against the massive armies of the corrupted that the Elder One threw at us?" interjected Cassandra, who looked broken as she recanted the Inquisition's failures.

"Nothing," replied Jen sadly. "I'm so sorry for everything you have suffered."

"As am I," said Dorian a little impatiently. "But have you seen Alexius? He hopefully still has the locket he used to anchor the spell. And if he does, I can use it to send us back to the right time!"

"So it will be as if none of this had happened?" asked Varric slowly. Jen hadn't noticed until now the scars on his hands that hadn't been there before and the way his Carta coat hung loosely from his shoulders.

"Exactly," said Dorian, looking very pleased with himself.

"Then we must do this!" Cassandra gritted her teeth, "Alexius still has the amulet. He was wearing it whenever he came down here to torment me." The anger in Cassandra's voice was palpable. Turning to Jen, the Seeker took her hand, "And that's how I know this too: Leliana and Cullen are being tortured, we must free them, they may be able to help."

"Of course," Jen mumbled under the intensity of the glare that Cassandra was giving her, "lead the way."

 **[A/N Many thanks to everyone who has been reading and those of you who have favourited and followed!]**


	18. Chapter 18

As they passed through many more stone passages it became painfully obvious how weak Cassandra and Varric had become. Both were silent other than their gasping breathing as they pushed themselves to set a fast pace. The effect of months of neglect and punishment was plain to see.

Eventually they came to a small hallway and Jen held up a hand for them to stop. She could hear a man's voice echoing off the stone from a room on their right.

"Awake are you?" the harsh voice said. "Maybe today will be the day that I will break you my sweet. As always, I am looking forward to taking another sample for my collection."

"Go to hell, you despicable creature," replied an Orlesian voice weakly.

Jen whirled around to the others, "Leliana is in there! He is torturing her!"

As one, they unsheathed their weapons and charged into the room.

A tall thin man who had been bearing down on Leliana spun to face them, his knife dropping from his hand in shock. Eyes wide, he stepped backwards towards where Leliana was hanging from the ceiling by chains clamped around her arms. It was then that Jen saw Leliana's face. Her skin was scarred with cut after cut that had been applied to it having caused irrevocable damage. Her once bright blue eyes were sunken, and any skin that was undamaged was sallow and pitted.

Before the man could even speak, Jen pulled out a throwing knife and threw is with as much force as she could at his face. It buried itself in his eye, hands scrabbling at his face as blood pooled around it, he let out a pitiful wail, stumbling backwards.

With what looked like a herculean effort, Leliana hoisted herself up by the chains binding her, put her legs over his shoulders and twisted her thighs. He tried to cry out but the pressure on his neck was too great. A sickening crack resounded through the room; the man fell to the floor, his neck twisted at an unnatural angle as Leliana slumped back limply held by the chains. She gasped trying to catch her breath.

Jen along with Cassandra and Dorian converged on the Spymaster, the former of the two lifting her whilst Dorian broke the manacles over her wrists open with a spell. As they lowered her down, he busied himself healing the injuries he could.

"Where is Cullen? I thought he was with you Leliana?" Cassandra asked hesitantly.

Grimacing as Dorian continued his ministrations, Leliana pointed to a stone table the other side of the room.

"There." She said harshly.

A body lay upon it, shrunken and withered. From where Jen crouched with Leliana she could only make out an emaciated arm hanging over the edge, clad in a filthy grey shirt and matted blonde curls of the back of his head which was turned away from them.

"No!" gasped Cassandra, who ran over to the broken body of the Commander. "Cullen!" she cried in anguish.

Leliana's hand clamped down hard on to Jen's arm, pulling them both to their feet and away from the Seeker.

"I know more now," she murmured dangerously. "They tortured him for days on end, forcing him to relive past wounds from the blight." Her mutilated face and sunken eyes fixed on Jen's with the sort of look that froze her insides.

"They also tormented him about Kirwall, the destruction and a certain little birds part to play in all of that." Her tone was deadly. Instinctively Jen found her hands resting on throwing knives. A faint smile played on Leliana's lips as she stepped around Jen, leaving her with her head spinning.

Dorian, Varric and Cassandra were all stood around Cullen's body. "I assume you have some sort of plan Altus?" Leliana asked brutishly.

"Myself and Jennifer can reverse this — to make it so none of this happened." He placed a tentative hand on the Seeker's shoulder, whose eyes were wet with tears.

Despite the others converging around Cullen, Jen did not move closer, isolating herself from them while pretending to sharpen one of her knives. She did not want to see him properly, see that the light had left him. Already in her 27 years she had seen and done too much for her dreams not to be haunted by horrific images. She had no desire to add another to that list.

Jen could feel Leliana's eyes on her as they all waited for her to say something, but Jen did not. Finally Leliana strode to a cabinet and pulled a bow and arrow from it.

"Let us go and reverse this then," she stated bluntly.

"Aren't you interested in how we came to be here?" asked Dorian, disappointment evident in his voice that he wouldn't get to tell the story again.

"No," replied Leliana. "It may be nothing to you, but I have lived through this hell the past year. It was real for me, I saw friend after friend die. I have been tortured to the brink of madness. I don't care what happened." With that she turned on her heel and strode from the room. The others followed her out with a renewed determination, other than Dorian who looked ever so slightly miffed.

Jen followed more slowly, pausing at the threshold to look back. Cullen's body was a silhouette against the fire in the ornate stone hearth. With a shake of her head, she gritted her teeth and strode off after the others.


	19. Chapter 19

Intense fighting followed as they made their way to Alexius and without Dorian in the group to heal injuries, Jen didn't think they would have made it. Her hand crackled with green light constantly as they fought their way up into a courtyard. The veil was incredibly thin, with demons bursting through constantly. The group barely spoke other than to issue instructions to one another. Every one of them was forcing themselves on, faces fiercely determined to fight through any demons or Venatori that dared stand in their way.

Jen was spattered with blood and caked in sweat as they finally pushed into a grand entrance hall lined with 30 foot stone pillars. The door through which Alexius resided stood at the end.

Using several red lyrium shards that they had found on Alexius' bodyguards, Dorian cast a spell to break through the enchanted glowing stone which was preventing entry as it was mounted in the middle of the ten foot door. Illuminating under Dorian's ministrations, it then crumbled, eroding away completely to leave a pile of fine sand on the floor below. Everyone drew their weapons, then with Jen at the head, they entered the shadowy room.

It seemed much as it had before, Alexius was stood with his back to them, again silhouetted by the fire in the great stone hearth. However, as Jen looked around again, this time she took in wooden tables over flowing with books that were left haphazardly, unfinished meals that looked like they had been there for some time and red lyrium not only growing in the walls, but also on the work benches. He was studying it.

"I knew you would come," Alexius murmured. Turning to face them, Jen saw how weak he had become. His eyes were hooded and his cheekbones were pronounced, he had lost a lot of weight.

"Alexius," said Dorian, "You must see the damage you have caused, allow us to stop this nightmare from ever happening."

"It's too late Dorian," replied Alexius a little hysterically. "The Elder One is coming, you can't stop him." He turned, lifeless eyes boring into Jen's with a twisted smile. "He knows you are here, Herald. He is coming for you!" he shouted with a mad cackle. Jen recoiled at his words, pulling out her daggers.

While Alexius had been speaking, Leliana had been sneaking along the right hand side of the room in the shadows. Jen had thought she was simply seeking to flank Alexius, but no. Her arm reached out at speed grabbing a figure that Jen had not been able to make out until then, as he was too far from the light of the fire. She pulled him to his feet, and as the light bathed his features, Jen realised who it was: Felix.

However, this was not the kind young man who had aided them. His skin was grey and pitted, his hair had fallen out and he was skeletally thin. It seemed that his illness had caught up with him, because there was only one disease Jen knew of that caused a man to become such a husk: blight sickness. He did not struggle as Leliana pushed a knife to his throat, it was as though he had been reanimated, his body moved but his essence was long gone.

"NO!" shouted Alexius, then more pitifully, "Please. Please don't hurt him!"

"Alexius, what have you done!" exclaimed Dorian in horror.

"Enough." Leliana spoke firmly. "Enough of this discussion," she paused, her grip tightening on the knife, "this is a mercy given what you have done!" She cut Felix's throat and his body fell to the floor.

"Nooo!" raged Alexius with a strangled cry, casting a lightning bolt straight at Leliana. The Spymaster rolled smartly to the side, bow now in hand and fired three arrows in quick succession at Alexius. He stopped them all with magic, before blasting a shockwave outwards to fling Cassandra backwards, who had been advancing on him, sword drawn. As she struggled to her feet Jen moved in front of her with Dorian who cast a shield. Both Varric and Leliana continued to fire on Alexius, Jen could see the strain on his face as he continued to block them. Cassandra charged forwards again at Alexius who was forced to block her with the shaft of his staff and when Dorian began his attack the magister began to stumble.

Taking advantage of her foe's distraction, Jen snuck behind him. Desperately seeking an end to the fighting, she buried her daggers in Alexius exposed back.

Alexius made a wheezing groan as he sunk to his knees. Fighting to speak, his lips moved frantically, trembling as he fought through the pain to form the words, "It was all for— for— Felix." He uttered, eyes meeting Jen's one last time as she watched him slip away.

"Oh Alexius," murmured Dorian sadly, manoeuvring the Magister onto his back and closing his eyes.

"Can you reverse the spell Tevinter?" Leliana asked grimly.

Dorian reached for the chain around Alexius neck and carefully pulled it over his head, a large intricately engraved gold amulet was revealed. Holding it in his hand for a moment, eyes closed, Dorian answered, "Yes, I can see what Alexius did here. I should be able to undo his spell."

"Jen!" Varric shouted her from the door.

"What is it?" she replied, taking in his grim expression and the way his arms were readying Bianca.

"We have company. I can hear heavy footfalls coming from below. I — think they might have trolls with them." He set his jaw, "Kid, you get out of here once Sparkler has done his bit. I will hold them off."

"Varric, I—" she tried to come up with another solution. She too could hear the sounds of darkspawn approaching now and the characteristic sounds of trolls howling for blood — it sounded like there were two of them.

"Jennifer, make it so this never happened." Cassandra ordered her, stepping up with Varric, sword drawn and shield raised. "I will go with Varric and buy you some time."

"Aww Seeker, I knew you wouldn't be able to resist following me, even at the end," Varric teased with something reminiscent of his old twinkle in his eye.

Cassandra just huffed and stormed out, causing Varric to have to run to keep up. Jen watched them leave, trying to ignored the sounds of the darkspawn that they were about to face.

Turning to the two who remained, Dorian was wrapped in concentration, green light emanating from the amulet in a fine web formation. Leliana was readying her bow.

"May we speak candidly for a moment?" Leliana asked.

"What would you wish to speak of now?" replied Jen warily, the harsh and angry Leliana that stood before her had lost all empathy.

"When you return, go to me and remind me of what is most important," she said quietly. "Tell me to seek out the Warden, not leave her to her quest. We have so little time, and I must remember to make the most of it." Leliana's face, despite the trauma it had endured, softened and for a moment Jen thought she could see the true Leliana within.

There was a cry from Cassandra outside, one the Jen recognised, she was charging the enemy and Leliana must have known it as well because her posture stiffened and she raised her bow.

"As for you Raven," Jen started at the use of her former name. "The Inquisition is with you, learn to trust us. I know now why you never look at Cullen, but he is kind and I know you lost much as well that day. "

"I—" That was all the response Jen managed, because as she tried to answer, the ten foot doors at the end of the room were rent of their hinges and thrown into the room with a crash. Two enormous trolls, stalked into the room, one carrying the limp body of Cassandra and the other Varric. There were slack grins on the trolls ugly faces as they let the bodies fall to the floor.

"Jennifer, go!" shouted Leliana, pushing her towards Dorian who grabbed her then continued weaving his spell.

"No!" shouted Jen as she watched Leliana raise her bow and began to pray to the Maker as she loosed her first arrow. It struck one of the trolls in eye and it howled in pain, storming towards her. Gracefully Leliana danced away from it, firing another arrow into its neck.

"Jennifer, stop struggling!" cried Dorian in frustration, holding her as tightly as he could. "We have to get back and prevent this from ever happening!"

Jen was powerless to help Leliana as the second troll reached her, Leliana managed to get one arrow away, but it hit the thick grey hide of its belly and glanced off. Unable to react in time, it swiped out at her landing a hit in her stomach. Jen watched as Leliana fell to the ground, winded. Struggling harder against Dorian, she was forced to watch as both trolls bore down on the Nightingale who appeared helpless to stop them, then there was a green flash of light. Jen and Dorian had shifted away.

* * *

Her leather boots hit the stone floor with an audible thud. Taking a moment to convince herself that they had indeed made it back to the right time, she glanced around the room containing Alexius and Inquisition soldiers exactly as it had been when they had left it. Satisfied Jen started forward intending to beat Alexius within an inch of his life. But surprisingly, Dorian who still had a grip on her arm held her back and then strode forward himself towards a stunned looking Alexius and punched him squarely in face so hard that he was thrown to the floor.

"You stupid idiot!" Dorian shouted angrily. "You sought to save Felix, but all you succeeded in doing was ending the world; all that was left of your son was a reanimated zombie!"

"That's enough Dorian!" Cassandra had reacted while all the others watched, and grabbed Dorian's arm before he could hit Alexius again. Jen was still seething and stepped forward, wanting to punish Alexius further for everything he had done, but Varric joined her at her side. He placed his hand on her arm, giving her a look that showed he knew exactly what she was thinking. Jen was so relieved to see both him and Cassandra unharmed that she stayed where she was.

Sitting up, blood pouring from his nose Alexius looked pitifully at Felix who had just entered the room.

"Father, it's over," said Felix sadly as he made his way to Alexius.

"But you will die," mumbled Alexius, his voice quivering.

"Everyone dies," he replied quietly as he reached for his father.


	20. Chapter 20

Finally Jen was back in her cabin at Haven, her bath was filled with hot water — courtesy of Dorian — and at last she was able to stop for a moment. She slowly peeled off her black leather jacket with a frown, it had a large gash in it from where she had got herself stabbed and she would have to get it mended. It felt like a lifetime ago since that had happened, since all the death in the broken future and the decisions that had to be made as a result of witnessing it.

Next she pulled off her trousers with a groan. Her muscles were so tired that she had to hobble over to the bed and sit down in order to get them off. The leather stuck awkwardly as she carefully removed them. Through the cotton of her shirt she ran her left hand along where her cut had been before Dorian had healed it. It still felt tender.

Getting to her feet, she padded barefoot to the bath, recoiling as she caught her reflection in the mirror which showed how filthy she was. Her black hair smelled of smoke and was full of knots, her fingernails black with dirt and her face was covered in soot. She slowly pulled her shirt over her head, her shoulders tightening in protest and then removed her undergarments before climbing into the copper bath with a sigh.

There had been much to organise, and that it seemed the Herald was necessary to be involved in organising once Alexius had been taken into custody. King Alistair himself had burst into the Castle, intent on restoring it to the rightful owner Arl Teagan and throwing the Rebel Mages out of Redcliffe. She could hardly blame him, especially given the horrors that she was sure that she had heard he had encountered during the blight at Kinloch Hold… but that meant that the mages were cast out and Fiona had turned imploringly to her. Jen knew that the Inquisition needed the mages to help seal the breach, that was why they had gone there after all and seeing that terrible alternate future she knew what power they held. It was impossible to allow them to go their own way, what if they were to become hoodwinked again and their power was used for evil again. It could not happen.

Jen reached for a flannel and began to wipe the dirt from her forearms. So she had ended up in a situation where should could not let the mages leave, they needed them, but also she had experience of what happened when people were kept trapped against their will. She couldn't bring herself to instate a Circle type system, the mages needed to learn to look after themselves without Templars watching their every move. Cassandra had been particularly unhappy with Jen's decision and she was surprised that the Seeker hadn't tried to stop her, but she had allowed Jen's decision to stand, as had King Alistair and a very surprised and grateful Fiona.

For the moment though, Jen simply washed away the dirt and sweat that had coated her body, sinking comfortably into her bath tub. She lay there for a moment, her eyes closed, but slowly unwelcome thoughts began to enter her mind. Cassandra and Varric broken, releasing the red lyrium corrupted Fiona into death, the blonde curls on Cullen's emaciated body and the sacrifice of the tortured Spymaster who had told her to trust them. To trust and to pass a message on to the Leliana in this world. Jen knew she would fulfil the second wish, but she did not know if she would be able to fulfil the first.

* * *

 **12 years previously**

"Hello my sweet thing," the woman smiled radiantly at Jen as she stood to attention. Jen knew that she mustn't move until permission had been given, that Benjamin would punish her if she did.

"Oh yes," the woman inspected Jen, satisfaction evident in her expression, "at ease my sweet little Raven."

It had been another test of her loyalty, had she moved, even slightly, the woman would have raised doubts to Benjamin over her usefulness and she would have been punished so that he could prove to the woman that she was useful. Over time Jen had realised that it was easier not to resist, to submit herself to the programme for now until she actually had a realistic chance of escape. But she worried that she was losing herself in it.

"Sit," the woman ordered as she sat down herself and gestured at the seat opposite her. Carefully so as not to scrape the wooden chair against the stone floor, Jen sat.

"Would you please leave us Benjamin?" the woman asked, "I would like to speak with Raven alone."

He nodded and vacated the room, closing the wooden door behind him. The fire crackled slightly in the stone hearth as Jen waited for the woman to speak again.

"Put your hand out," Jen obliged, holding her right hand out, palm down towards the table. Across the back of her hand was one red welt, which the woman ran her finger over gently. Jen's insides crawled at the contact, but she did not show any discomfort externally.

"Hmm," she examined Jen's hand intently. "And the other?"

Jen placed her left hand next to her right. There were no marks on her left.

"Excellent," she murmured to herself.

"You did well on your last assignment Raven, the Count knew far too much. It was necessary to silence him." The woman sat back, her dark brown hair falling away from her face. Her brown eyes fixed on Jen's, the woman's expression darkened, then she asked cuttingly, "How did it make you feel to kill him Raven?"

Jen remained silent for a moment, remembering the feeling of the knife sliding between the man's ribs. He had been alone in his bathroom, no witnesses. She had had time to plan it perfectly.

"Raven? I won't ask again," the woman said.

"It felt good Ma'am," Jen replied, her violet eyes meeting the woman's dark brown ones.

"You enjoyed it?" asked the woman slowly. "Are you sure?"

"He thought me weak when I first met him, but I showed him that I am strong." Jen said defiantly.

"That didn't answer my question, did you enjoy it?"

"Yes Ma'am. I enjoyed the way the light left his eyes, the power I had over him." A small part of Jen was horrified at what she was saying, but she knew it to be true. This is what Benjamin had wanted her to be, but she had not expected the rush, the power she felt when taking a life. It was intoxicating.

"Good girl," the woman said quietly, her hand cupping Jen's chin forcing her gaze upwards. "My little Raven, completely without remorse. I'm pleased with your progress and I shall reward you now. I have another person that I want you to take care of, but before that I shall grant you a favour."

The woman leaned forward, releasing Jen's chin. "Benjamin told me that you wish to know my name?"

"I— I'm sorry Ma'am." Jen braced herself for at the very least a slap across the face. The woman had been visiting her for years, but Jen was still none the wiser as to who she was.

"That's okay my little bird," the woman's voice was soft, almost kind. "Curiosity is natural and we have been friends for a long time now, I have watched you grow from that scrawny eleven year old to the fifteen year old I see before me." She shifted in her chair, "I shall tell you my name. It is Majorlaine."


	21. Chapter 21

"Herald, a word please?" Jen had been striding through the practice yard to the area the soldiers had designated for knife throwing, when Cassandra called out to her.

"Good morning Seeker," Jen said courteously, "How can I help you?" she asked after heading over.

"I wanted to speak with you after all that happened yesterday," Cassandra looked at her candidly. "I think you noticed that I was not best pleased with your decision to freely invite the mages to Haven."

"Cassandra, I—" interjected Jen, but Cassandra held up her hand.

"Please let me finish. Although I am not sure as to whether the decision made was correct, you made a decision and I will always support that," she said with unexpectedly fierce loyalty.

Jen was touched at the Seeker's support. "Thank you, that's reassuring," Jen smiled, but then her expression darkened as she remembered the terrible alternate future. "Cassandra, in that future I experienced with Dorian, along with Varric and Leliana, you sacrificed yourselves so that we could get back." Jen finished, unable to look at the Seeker.

Cassandra was silent for a moment, then placed her hand on Jen's forearm, causing her to look up into Cassandra's dark brown eyes, which showed both kindness and sadness.

"I suppose in that case, I should not have worried about whether you felt that you had my support," she said with a small smile.

"No, you shouldn't," whispered Jen seriously, trying not to think of seeing Cassandra's lifeless body and instead focus on the woman in front of her who was very much alive. With an attempt to lighten her thoughts and the conversation she added teasingly, "But you do make it obvious when you disagree."

To her surprise Cassandra sighed, "I know that, I do try but I cannot help that when I believe in something I throw myself behind it. Can you explain to me why you made your choice?"

"I understand why you might think that Circles are still the answer," Jen paused looking at Cassandra, trying to get her to understand, "But it is my experience that if you keep someone caged, even if you think it is for their own good, they will always wonder whether they are better off on the outside of the cage. Add in the inevitability of a few corrupt jailers who swear that they are doing good, but instead are taking advantage of their position and you end up with Kirkwall." Jen finished.

"I did not know you had been to Kirkwall?" Cassandra replied shrewdly.

 _Shit._ Jen hadn't meant to give that impression, only to use it as an example. "The mercenary company I worked with had taken some work near Kirkwall at the time of the rebellion," there was a partial truth there that Jen hoped would disguise the lie.

"I see," replied Cassandra who didn't sound particularly mollified. "I went to Kirkwall not long after the explosion. I saw the damage and devastation as a result of the Circle falling."

"Yes the Circle fell," Jen replied a little impatiently, "but that was not the root of the problem. It is why the mages felt so desperate that I am concerned with."

Cassandra grunted noncommittally, but her brow was furrowed in thought. "Anyway, now that has been discussed, I need to pass on a message to you Jennifer. I happened to break my fast with Josephine this morning who informed me that she needs to speak with you when you have time."

"Right. Do you know what it is about?" asked Jen, staring longingly at the practice dummies that she would have to forgo for now.

"Not a clue," said Cassandra, following Jen's gaze with a knowing smile.

* * *

After saying farewell to Cassandra, Jen turned on her heel and headed back the way she had come. The entrance hall of the chantry was as dark as ever. She could hear a draught whistling in under the doors as she knocked once on Josephine's door before being invited to enter.

"I see you got my message Jen," Josephine said looking pleased as she gestured for Jen to take a seat.

"What can I do for you Josephine?" Jen asked with a small smile. It was difficult not to like Josephine, she was always polite and spoke with warmth. Although Jen had known the Ambassador a short time, so far her approach to her work was always one of calm, methodically searching through all options for the best solution resulting in a great deal of success.

"I would like to talk to you about your family, I know that you represented them at the Conclave. Would we be able to gain support from them? The Trevelyan's are an old family and their name behind us is a good start for gaining support in the Free Marches."

Josephine looked eager at the prospect, and Jen couldn't help but agree that her Uncle carried a lot of political clout behind him. However, their relationship had until recently been non-existent. So much so that she hadn't bothered to write to him since gaining the mark and the events of the Conclave.

"I understand where you are coming from," Jen replied slowly. "Yes, my Uncle holds a powerful position among the nobles, but," she ran her hand through her long black hair in frustration, "our relationship is not great. I'm not sure of how much use I will be in securing his support."

Looking distinctly disappointed Josephine changed tact, "But is there anything we could offer, or else a way we could approach him which would make him more sympathetic to us?"

"His pride in the family name," Jen answered at once. She stared for a moment at the crackling fire in the grate, lost in the past. Josephine's eyes were fixed on her, waiting for Jen to elaborate further. "He would do anything to protect our family name, and to further extend its influence."

Josephine had leaned forward slightly, completely engaged in what Jen was telling her. "So you think he might support us if we were to point out the advantages of being an ally of the Inquisition?"

"Possibly," Jen folded her arms. "He will be threatened by the fact that I have somehow gained the mark and how everyone is talking about me as the Herald of Andraste. He will not like that my name has become bigger than that of the family."

"But you are of that family?" Josephine asked, confused.

"Like I said," Jen sighed, "until recently we were estranged. Trevelyan's are brought up not to think that one family member is more important: it is our family name that matters." She picked absentmindedly at the leather which was flaking off the arm of her chair.

Josephine frowned further, eyes fixed on the small patch of leather that Jen had pulled away. "So you are saying that you being the Herald of Andraste—"

"I'm not a Herald," interrupted Jen.

"—you being the Herald," Joesphine carried on determinedly, "is a disadvantage for reasons you seem unwilling to divulge. But, if we were to point out what it would do for the Trevelyan's as a collective, that should help?"

Jen nodded and this time it was Josephine's turn to sigh. "I was hoping that if I asked you to write, help would come. If what you have told me is true, it would be better for the Inquisition to approach your Uncle in an official capacity."

"Exactly," replied Jen, feeling uncomfortable, so she began to rise from her chair.

"Wait a moment please," Josephine said firmly. She made a few notes with her feathered quill on the parchment in front of her, before looking up.

"I need you to go to Val Royeux, just a short trip this time. Madame de Feur, Enchanter to the Imperial Court of Orlais has invited you to meet with her, it seems she is sympathetic to our cause and wishes to throw her weight behind the Inquistion. Something that we can't afford to turn down at the moment."

"Are you displeased with her approaching us?" Jen asked at the small hint of discomfort present on Josephine's features— in the tightness of her mouth.

"I am not," she said in her Antivan accent, the words carefully measured. "I am not concerned that she will bring with her contacts and resources for the Inquisition, but rather that she would seek to steer the objectives of the Inquisition to suit her own ends."

"Okay, fine. I will go and see what she has to say. Have we got transport arranged for the journey? If we can get on a fast boat, it will only be a three day round trip rather than at least a ten day ride."

"I will look into it," replied Josephine with a smile. "That is all I had for you," she stood as Jen did and held the door open. "Thank you for your assistance Jennifer."

 **[A/N I just wanted to thank those of you who have taken the time to follow, favourite and review this story since my last author's note. It means a lot to me that there are people who are enjoying what I have written. Thanks!]**


	22. Chapter 22

Vivienne, as the Enchanter to the Imperial Court of Orlais had told Jen she wished to be known to her, was a calculating woman. At first Jen had been impressed by the splendour of her home in Val Royeaux and the obvious respect that she garnered from those around her. According to Dorian, she was also a very proficient mage. However once talk turned to Jen's recent decision to allow refuge to the rebel mages without imposing a circle type system upon them, Vivienne's disapproval was palpable and Jen did not appreciate the way she was talked down to.

As imposing a figure as Vivienne was; tall with handsome features and ebony skin, wearing an intricate silver head piece along with well tailored, figure hugging white robes complete with knee high black boots, Jen was not easily intimidated. As a result it hadn't been easy for her to remain civil in her presence and once Vivienne had consented to grace the Inquisition with her skills, Jen had spoken only a few times to her on the return journey and not at all since arriving at Haven.

They had returned at midday and Jen had spent a few hours on her own, repairing her leather jacket and enjoying the peace of working on an intricate task. Whilst working she had made a decision, she would close the breach as soon as possible and once that was done — providing she survived of course — she would leave the Inquisition. She would devote herself to hunting down and killing Benjamin, to ensure he twisted no more children. It seemed a fairly noble aim and she liked to think was in keeping with how she had changed over the last few years. How she would find him when Leliana had as of yet found nothing, she didn't know, but she had to try.

She would go back to where it all started for her, once that was in order maybe she could begin to repair the consequences of her more recent sins. But hearing Varric casually mention Kirkwall and the presence of the Commander here… one day she would explain what had happened. That it was her fault. But she felt like a boat trying desperately to sail against stormy waters and she knew that it was cowardly, but she needed to run from kindness again, because she was not sure she deserved it. In a way, the idea that she could be forgiven was more terrifying than being clapped in irons and thrown into a dungeon: she could not forgive herself.

First however, she needed to speak to Leliana. About her resolve to close the breach, but also the message that the other Leliana had passed on. Carefully replacing her needle and thread into the small leather pouch she kept them in, she pulled on her newly fixed jacket and left her cabin in search of the Spymaster.

The tent that Leliana ran her operations from was empty when Jen reached it. There were papers scattered over the desk with a semblance of order, but the Spymaster was nowhere to be found.

"Lady Herald?" asked a male voice from behind her.

Jen turned to see the young scout that had rushed to warn her of Krem's presence on the road. He flushed as his eyes met Jen's, clearly remembering how their last encounter had ended with him at the wrong end of Bianca, Varric's beloved crossbow.

"Have you seen Sister Nightingale?" Jen smiled kindly at the scout, trying to put him at ease.

"I believe that she left to go for a walk around the lake," he replied confidently, clearly having got over their unexpected meeting.

"I shall look for her there then, thank you," Jen nodded and set out towards the lake. She wondered what Leliana was up to, leaving Haven's walls alone. When she reached the main gate, she headed towards the lake edge, following a set of footprints that looked to be the right size for the Spymaster. Eventually she came to a clearing between the snow capped trees, which was a little way inland from the lakes edge.

Leliana was sat on a tree stump, her eyes closed and hands together in prayer.

"Yes?" she asked, opening one eye.

"I wished to speak with you," replied Jen quickly, "but I don't want to interrupt. It can wait."

"Jennifer, sit," Leliana said with a small smile as she patted the free edge of the tree stump next to her.

Jen sat down, realising as she did that the gap in the trees in front gave an uninterrupted view of the frozen lake. It was a beautiful view, the ice sparkled as the sunlight caught it.

"Do you believe in Andraste?" Leliana asked. Jen frowned, not having expected that question.

"No," she replied. "I believe maybe there is something there, but I don't know if it is the Maker or Andraste." Leliana's small smile remained on her face.

"You expected me to say that?" Jen said confusedly.

"It makes sense with how you dislike being called Herald," she stated simply. "So now I have an answer to that curiosity, what was it you wanted to speak to me about?"

Jen paused for a moment, staring out over the lake wondering how to begin. "I assume you have read the report that myself and Dorian put together for the events that unfolded in Redcliffe castle?"

"But of course, the things you learnt will be closely monitored. Particularly any threat to Empress Celene and whispers of this Elder One, of which we have heard nothing so far."

"That's good to know," Jen picked at her repair to her jacket, noticing as she did that she had not finished off the stitches properly. "But I wanted to talk about what the other you said to me before she sacrificed herself so that we could get away," she finished quietly.

Leliana had stiffened beside her, but did not interrupt.

Jen took a deep breath, "You told me to seek you out, to remind you of what is most important."

"Oh yes?" replied Leliana coldly. It was as though she was already constructing barriers around her, to protect herself from whatever she feared was coming.

"You said to tell you to seek out the Warden," Leliana closed her eyes and scrunched them up in pain,"and not to leave her to her quest."

"I—" for the first time since knowing her, Leliana's voice shook. "—I, thank you Jennifer." The hard exterior Leliana wore as Spymaster had shattered, and beneath was a warmer person, who looked as though she was allowing herself to feel. Leliana's expression was one of both sadness, but also happiness and Jen thought she should look away. That she was intruding on a part of Leliana that wasn't for her to see.

Jen made to get up, to leave Leliana to her thoughts, but the Spymaster's arm shot out and grasped her hand tightly. When Jen looked back at her, she realised the mask of the Spymaster was back in place.

"Was that all you wished to say to me?"

"No," Jen steeled herself and pulled her arm away from Leliana.

"We are ready. I am ready, to seal the breach."

* * *

It had taken a day to organise the mages required for the attempt. In the end Solas had stepped forward to lead them, as he was the most familiar with the magic that the breach had been created by. Feeding into him, there were to be three sub groups each led by Dorian, Vivienne and Fiona. Dorian was to take the middle group as it was feared that the animosity between Fiona, the Rebel Mage leader, and Vivienne, a firm believer in the Circle system, would be detrimental. A contingent of Inquisition soldiers would also be present, with Commander Rutherford as lead in case anything went awry and demons were to break through. The Chargers would also be present for this reason.

A sick, nervous feeling had been wracking Jen all day as the arrangements were discussed, not that she chose to show it. But now the endless meetings that had been necessary were concluded, Jen was marching on the Temple of Sacred Ashes once again.

The closer she got, the more her mark began to flare up, causing her left hand to throb painfully. She gritted her teeth, trying to hide this from Cassandra who walked beside her and instead focused on the debris of the temple. It was in no better shape than when she had last been there. Bodies still littered the ruins, petrified in time in positions of great anguish. They knew what was coming, but not how to escape: it must have been terrifying. Jen wished she knew how she had avoided that fate. For now though she resolved that once the breach was closed, those people would be laid to rest.

The red lyrium was also still there, and it had grown larger. Crystals easily the height of her were protruding from the ground, glowing evilly in the dimming light of setting sun and mixing with the sickly green glow that the breach emanated.

Finally, she came to what had been the very heart of the temple, a large space enclosed by crumbling stonework. She could see the mages positioned above her on one of the still remaining balconies. Cullen was there, serious looking, but he took a moment to smile at her encouragingly when their eyes met. For once, she didn't look away immediately.

Solas stepped forward, "It is time Jennifer."

Cassandra gently placed her gloved hand on the small of her back and gave her a small push forward. Jen's mark was pulsing even more painfully now, she was directly below the breach. She turned and sucked in a breath as she realised how many people were watching her, hoping that this was going to work.

Solas brought his staff crashing to the ground and white light flowed from him into Jen's mark which she raised into the air. The magic that Dorian, Vivenne and Fiona were casting also flowed into the system, flooding Jen with such raw power of the like she had never known before. It was intoxicating, incredible. Finally she could see why so many mages fought for their right to use their abilities freely and why the rite of Tranquility was so very terrible.

But it was filling her too quickly, her body was not adapted to use such power and she could not help but shout out in pain as it felt like it was crashing against her insides trying to free itself. Instead of fighting she channeled it, using the magic in the mark to act as a conduit and allowing it to flow from her. An enormous green flare of magic erupted from her hand, so powerful that it forced her to her knees and lit the surrounding ruins as she forced it up towards the breach. When it made contact there was a massive explosion and the shockwave reached those below, the solid wall of air winding them. Eventually, the green light faded, the dust settled and there was silence.

Jen was face down in the rubble, her body in shock as it tried to process all of the sensory stimulation it had just experienced. She moved her left hand experimentally and was relived to find that she could feel the dirt beneath her fingers. There were footsteps and Jen felt herself being roughly yanked to her feet by her jacket.

"Are you alright?" Cassandra asked gently as Jen clung to her for support, her body felt incredibly weak.

"Did it work?" Jen replied. As she asked the question, she looked up at where the breach had been. Dark clouds still surrounded it, but there was no longer an jagged green cut bisecting the sky. She felt relief wash over her as Cassandra tightened her arm around Jen's midriff and began to lead her back towards the others. Cheers began from the mages and soldiers who were assembled around them. The sheer joy on their faces was infectious and Jen allowed herself a small smile. Tonight, it seemed, she had done something she was actually proud of.


	23. Chapter 23

Everyone was celebrating. Dancing and music was seen and heard throughout Haven and the Landlady of the local pub Flissa had lowered her prices to assist in with the frivolity. It was the Inquisition's first real success and everyone was revelling in it.

Jen however, was in her cabin, packing up the remainder of her belongings into a rucksack. She intended to be gone before anyone had the chance to look for her. The breach was sealed, that was all that the war council had wanted from her and she was sure that her usefulness was at an end.

There was a knock at the door. Jen froze, listening and hoping that whoever it was would go away.

"Jennifer?"

Her heart sank. It was the last person she wanted to talk to: Cullen.

"Jennifer, I know you are in there, I saw you enter. Please will you speak with me?" his ernest voice cut through the silence.

With a small sigh, she made her way to the door and opened it.

"Good evening Commander, what can I do for you?" she asked with undisguised resignation in her voice.

Cullen looked a little hurt at her tone, but then seemed to gather his resolve.

"Would you walk with me? This evening is warmer than the last few."

Thinking of her belongings thrown into a pile on her table and her half-filled rucksack, something she did not want Cullen to see, she nodded and added, "That sounds nice, just let me grab my coat."

Music drifted over to them as they walked side by side, heading towards the chantry, although it seemed Cullen had picked a direction at random. Jen found it satisfying to get a glimpse of people enjoying themselves around fires that had been erected at the front of the building, for too long the breach had hung over everyone spreading forbidding and nervousness with it.

Abruptly, Cullen came to a stop and Jen waited patiently for him to speak.

"Herald— I mean Jennifer," he corrected apologetically, "I was wondering if you could explain why you seem to put such a distance between yourself and me?" His hand went to the back of his neck, a tell Jen had noticed before that he did if uncomfortable. "Have I done something? Was it my defence of the Templars when you wanted to side with the mages? Forgive me, but sometimes it seems you go out of your way to avoid speaking with me, something that at least from a professional point of view cannot continue."

Jen didn't know what to say. It was true, but she hadn't realised that he had noticed.

"I— "

"So I wasn't imaging it then?" he asked, crestfallen.

"I'm sorry Cullen," she said slowly staring over at Haven's gates.

"Can I ask why?" he asked exasperatedly.

"You haven't done anything."

"So what is it then?" His face was flushed with confusion.

Involuntarily Jen's heart started thudding harder against her chest, which felt tighter as she frantically tried to think of a way out of the situation. But her usually quick mind felt incapable. She couldn't answer him.

"I'm sorry Cullen, I can't—"

"Jennifer? Ah there you are!" exclaimed Dorian loudly as he strode towards them. Oblivious to the tension between Jen and Cullen, he linked his arm with hers and said, "Varric and the others are waiting for you in the tavern, we can't celebrate without the hero of the hour." He grinned widely.

"You are also required Commander," he nodded his head respectfully to Cullen.

"No thank you Dorian," replied Cullen curtly. His blue eyes were still fixed on Jen, his brow creased in a frown.

Dorian was about to protest when Jen interrupted him. "Wait! Listen!"

She thought she had heard a shout coming from the gatehouse and turned towards it, but could not distinguish the sound from the joyful whooping and music. Perhaps she was mistaken. Perhaps—

The bell in the guard tower began to sound. Cullen drew his sword, eyes wide with panic he grasped the situation the fastest.

"Come with me, both of you now!" He sprinted towards the gates, Jen and Dorian barely keeping up behind him. A high pitched voice was coming from behind it and two soldiers were stood by it, clearly unsure what to do.

"You have to let me in!" The voice shouted. "I've come to help!"

"Open the gate," Jen commanded and the two soldiers sprung into action, turning two large wooden wheels that were fixed by chains to the gate mechanism. As soon as it was open a crack, what appeared to be a young man with patched clothes and scruffy blonde hair slipped through. She couldn't see his face properly as it was obscured by a large hat, the brim almost covering his eyes.

"Who are you?" she asked quickly, glancing at Cullen and Dorian who both looked thoroughly perplexed.

"I am Cole," the young man replied vaguely. "I came to warn you, the Elder One and his Templars have come. He wants you." His icy blue eyes met Jen's as he looked up at her, his face incredibly pale even when lit by the torches mounted each side of the gate. "He comes for his mark."

Jen's heart began to beat a little faster, she had wanted to run, but it seemed now it was impossible.

"Cullen? Do we have any plan here?" she asked desperately. "We need to hold up this army, we must evacuate our people!"

"Come with me," he grasped her hand and pulled her towards the top of the wall. She slipped her hand from his irritably glaring at him and he stared at her in disbelief before glancing over at the valley before them. His face fell instantly. From her vantage point she could see that indeed Cole was right, an army of Templars were marching towards them, two thousand strong at least and vastly greater than their own forces.

"You see there?" he pointed at a spot on the nearest mountain that framed the valley.

"Yes, why?"

"Haven was not built to defend a siege, our only hope is that we can use to trebuchet to create an avalanche and bury this army under it." He grimaced. "I'm sorry my Lady, I can't think of anything else."

"I will do it," Jen replied, gritting her teeth.

"Dorian?" she shouted down to him, still below at the foot of the gate. "Can you signal to the others? I am going to need some help."

"No need Jennifer," replied Dorian as Jen made her way back down the stone steps to him. Cassandra, Bull and Varric were already there.

"Commander, please get our people out," she begged him, everything else forgotten as she took his hand voluntarily this time. "I will bring this mountain down."

He nodded at her seriously, and sprinted off to organise his troops.

"The rest of you," she looked around at those who mere minutes ago she was going to leave for good, "I need you to protect my back. We are going to have some fun with a trebuchet!" she finished with a wink in Bull's direction, who guffawed loudly at the prospect.

 **[A/N As always thank you for the new follows and favourites, plus everyone who is reading this story!]**


	24. Chapter 24

It had not gone entirely to plan. Her team was a good one and they had managed to fight their way through wave after wave of corrupted Templars to the trebuchet and fired it off. It had caused a small avalanche, which had bought some time, but it was then that the Elder One had decided to reveal his most deadly weapon. A dragon. A rotting, corrupted darkspawn dragon.

Iron Bull had been delighted, but Jen was less so. Once it had spotted them, it had flown low to the ground and started breathing fire everywhere. They had been forced to retreat into the chantry itself, but there didn't seem to be any escape from there. At the back of the hall she could hear children crying, a sound which raised the hairs on the back of her neck. It was a desperate situation.

"What's that Chancellor?" asked the boy Cole, although Jen had not heard the Chancellor utter a word. He was lying on the stone floor, hand clamped over a wound to his stomach. The Chancellor had been too far gone by the time they had found him, too far gone for magic to have any affect on him now.

"I— I was thinking of a path I walked here in the summer while on pilgrimage," he started coughing, eyes wide in pain. Jen approached him carefully, knowing full well that she was not one of the Chancellor favourite people. Cole had also moved closer, taking Roderick's hand in his.

"Are you saying that there is a way for these people to get out of here?" she asked urgently. They could not stay holed up in the chantry forever. It wouldn't take long for the bulk of the Red Templar's to make their way through.

"Yes, I think there is, I will show you," he tried to get to his feet and Cole stopped to support him. Jen turned to Cullen who had just approached her.

"Get everyone out Cullen and send up a flare when you do," she pulled her two twin daggers off her back, the folded steel blades glinting in the candlelight.

"Where are you going?" he asked, eyes wide.

"I'm going to finish your plan, but this time I'm not going to bring the mountain down on just the Elder One's army. I'm going to bring it down on Haven too!" The passion with which she said this surprised her, she couldn't believe it, but she wanted to fight to protect these people.

"Jennifer — it's too risky!" his hand caught her wrist, but she twisted away from him.

"Cullen, I can do this," she said earnestly, "please let me." He dropped his hand slowly, but continued to look conflicted. It made Jen feel— something.

She strode to the door where Dorian, Bull and Cassandra waited for her. "I'm taking a risk here, I know it. If any of you want to help get our people out, go and do it." She glanced around at them, hands tightening on the hilts of her daggers. None of them had moved.

"Boss, I can't speak for the others, but I am with you," Iron Bull said firmly.

Cassandra nodded, drew her sword and said quietly, "I am with you Jennifer."

Dorian looked at his companions with a small impish smile on his face. "After Redcliffe I think you need me to keep an eye on you." He winked and raised his staff, using his magic to throw the doors open.

Jen threw herself through the doors and the others followed. Darkness had completely fallen and the only light available to them now was that which remained of the torches or else that of the burning buildings. There was a thud from behind them as the chantry doors were barricaded behind them. They were alone.

It seemed that the bulk of the Templar army had not managed to fight its way through the snowdrifts to the Chantry yet, but she could hear several small groups up ahead. Gesturing to her team to follow, they moved to the closest burning building. Three Red Templars were visible through the haze and smoke, and none of them were aware of their presence yet. Jen held out her hand for her team to hold, then gestured that Cassandra should take the one on the left, Bull the one on the right, and that she herself would take the middle one.

Sneaking forward, Jen climbed into the burning building itself. Taking care to avoid the parts that were consumed with flame, she managed to jump and pull herself up through the ceiling and on to the roof. She crept to the edge, daggers in hand and watched as Cassandra and Bull moved into position. Once she was satisfied they were ready, she glanced at where her target was below and dropped off the roof of the building, her daggers entered the back of the Templars neck and there was a thud as he hit the ground with Jen clinging to his back. She righted herself quickly and cleaned her daggers in the snow, leaving deep crimson stains.

"That was well done," whispered Dorian as he caught up. Bull and Cassandra both approached too, having been successful themselves.

"I fear that this approach won't last us Jennifer," Cassandra said seriously. "There is a large group near the gatehouse, we have no choice but to fight our way through."

"That's fine by me," replied Jen as she slid her daggers back into the scabbards on her back. "It's eerily quiet here, I don't like it. It's as though their army is holding back, waiting for something to happen."

Cassandra was right of course, they made their way hastily through the wooden cabins to the gatehouse, and a large force of about twenty Templar's awaited them. Jen let fly with her knives immediately, two finding their targets in their exposed necks beneath their helmets. They crumpled, but continued to twitch as though the corruption from the red lyrium was still animating them in death. Cassandra and Bull threw themselves at the front line, causing it to scatter under their charge, but as Jen watched she realised that something was different. Blows that should have cut clean through their enemies were failing to make their mark, instead the Templars seemed to be absorbing the effort that Bull and Cassandra were putting in and visibly appeared to grow larger.

"Dorian!" shouted Jen. "They need help, hit them with your best!" Jen sprinted forwards, and whirled into action. She jumped and slid along the ground, using both her daggers to hack at the achilles tendons of her enemies. They staggered and collapsed to their knees, which gave Bull and Cassandra a better chance to slice at them and there was a piercing shriek as an arm was severed by Cassandra. Purple light then engulfed the larger group at the back as Dorian unleashed his magic to terrify the Red Templars, and judging by the way they all staggered, it was working. Parrying a wild blow that one of them sent her way, Jen dodged around her next target and stabbed upwards into the Templar's exposed armpit. Jen lost track of time as she surrendered to the dance of the battle, flowing forwards to make critical hits as and when she saw an opening. Eventually the last one fell to a sickening crunch of Bull's axe and they stood there for a second panting and covered in gore.

But Jen was looking ahead already and she had noticed something. There was a gap in the wall caused by a siege weapon of some description.

"Come on!" she shouted, making for the gap in the wall and the trebuchet that was located on the other side. As she ran through it seemed that they hadn't been noticed yet. Again there were not so many enemies as she would have expected. It seemed that the initial avalanche had done a reasonable job to slow down the bulk of the Red Templars. Only two were holding the trebuchet. Jen threw a knife at one and the other was consumed in a fireball at the same moment by Dorian. Running over to the trebuchet, Jen pulled her knife free from the neck of the Templar and began to turn the wheel on trebuchet to point it towards the closest mountain.

A terrible roar ripped through the air around them and Jen looked up, knowing what it was that she would see. The dragon was back, wings closed as it dived down towards them. She saw Dorian raise his staff, pointing it upwards.

"No Dorian!" Jen shouted at him. "Get away! All of you!"

Bull and Cassandra looked as though they were going to protest.

"Please go!" she shouted desperately, throwing all of her weight into the mechanism: it was nearly lined up. "I will be right behind you!"

Dorian looked stricken as he grasped Cassandra's arm and began to lead her away. Bull was still stood there, resolute.

"That is an order Iron Bull!"

Hurt crossed his features as he reluctantly turned away and began to run to catch up with the other two. The trebuchet clicked under Jen's hands indicating it was orientated as far round as it would go, she took one second to look up at where the dragon was, but before she had even managed to lift her head up she was hit with brutal force and was thrown from the platform of trebuchet into the snow below.

She scrabbled to her feet, staggering as her head felt dizzy, she must have hit it as she fell. Eyes unfocused, Jen stared back at the trebuchet that was mercifully intact but now had the dragon and a massive figure between her and it.

"Pretender!" screamed the figure who must have been riding the fetid dragon. Feeling the words hit her, Jen staggered again, there was magic in the words of the seven foot monstrosity before her. Her mark was spluttering with green light uncontrollably. Then before she could react, the Elder One, because it surely must be, stalked over to her and hoisted her into the air by her left hand.

He was a twisted remnant of a person, with a skeletally thin torso and oddly lengthened limbs. Red lyrium was fused into his skin in places and parts of the bones of his rib cage were visible. Jen struggled against his grip as he stared at her hanging there, his eyes bloodshot and yellowed.

"I will take back what is mine," he said simply. Raising a claw like hand that held a perfectly spherical orb, he pushed magic into the mark, blinding Jen as the green light of the mark spat from it, meeting the red and crackling electricity of the intrusive magic. Her left hand was starting to go numb and she could feel the magic ripping at where the mark was fused to it. Desperately her right hand scrabbled for the knives at her waist, but her fingers couldn't quite reach one.

"This is your fault," he said in a deadly tone as he continued to work the magic into her hand. "You interrupted a ritual that had been years in the planning and stole a tool designed to assault the very heavens."

"Who are you?" Jen shouted as she continued to try and free herself. The intensity of the magic was increasing with each second, red lightening crackling from it in an increasingly uncontrollable manner.

"I?" He laughed deeply, the humour not meeting his dead eyes, then without warning he threw her to the floor at the foot of the trebuchet. Her fall was barely cushioned by the snow, and her left elbow jarred painfully on a rock hidden beneath.

"For a while I was confused but not now," he raised the orb higher, gritting his broken teeth together. "Kneel before me so called Herald, for I am the Elder One. Kneel before Corypheus!"

"No."

Defiantly Jen pulled herself to her feet. Anger was coursing through her, blocking the pain. It was his fault that she had been dragged into this mess, so she damn well wasn't going to kneel at the feet of a twisted abomination. As the rage that she usually kept at bay burst forth from her, she used it pushing her will into the mark in an attempt to break free from Corypheus. A bright flash of green exploded from her left hand and the connection between them was broken.

"You have spoilt it!" he howled in displeasure, but then his features hardened, his twisted face manipulated into a leer. "This is only a setback," he said more calmly, "but you have no use now Herald." He stalked forwards again, the red lyrium infected dragon roared behind him and Jen could feel the blood pumping in her ears as she glanced around, trying to come up with a way to escape. She backed away from Corypheus, then she saw it. A bright red flare lit up the sky as it flew into the air above Haven. The signal. The evacuation was complete and she knew what she needed to do.

"Fuck you!" she bellowed at Corypheus as she turned and threw her weight onto the trebuchet's firing mechanism. There was a loud screech of gears as the contraption fired, and Jen jumped from it, not pausing to watch the rock flying through the air. Instead she ran past Corypheus who was striding to his dragon intending to flee, and towards Haven.

She had barely made it ten paces when there was a boom in the distance, the rock had impacted on the mountains surface. A great rumble emanated from the mountain – an avalanche was forming. Jen ducked her head down and continued to sprint as fast as she could. The roar of the mountain grew louder and louder as the avalanche gained momentum and grew in size. It hit her before she had even managed to get back inside the town walls, all she could see was white as the air was crushed from her lungs and her head was repeatedly hit by debris. It was then that her eyes began to blur and she fell into blackness.

* * *

Cold. So very cold. Jen shivered uncontrollably as she pushed her hands into the snow, trying to get purchase to push herself up. Lifting her head immediately made her wretch as it spun sickeningly, so she lowered it for a moment, using the cool snow to soothe her forehead. More slowly this time, she looked around at the cave she was in. It looked as through the avalanche had broken through into some catacombs that existed beneath Haven and she had been swept along with it. She was incredibly lucky, not that she felt it. Along with a pounding head, her ribs felt bruised and her knees were scraped. Overall, she was not in the best of condition before she even took into account the freezing temperatures.

Summoning her willpower, she forced her body up into sitting position and then after a moments pause, up further to stand. Knowing only that she had to move, she hobbled forwards towards the only unblocked tunnel in the cave network, wishing that the wood in the brackets was not so damp so that she could light it. Light was scarce in the tunnel, and so Jen found the only way that she could see was using the green glow of her mark. It was spluttering strangely since her encounter with Corypheus.

Why hadn't any of them taken what Dorian and herself had seen in that terrible future more seriously? They should have been hunting the Elder One, not dancing and celebrating. Haven had been left completely exposed because they hadn't picked up on the clues. She herself had done nothing, in fact instead she had decided to leave them. All those people who had died — no. Now wasn't the time to do that to herself. She had to get out first.

She felt slightly delirious, a feeling that intensified as she finally found her way out of the caves. The cold wind hit her with such a stinging force that it felt as though small needles were pricking her exposed face. Pulling her hood down even lower over her head, she pushed forward through the snow storm hoping that the faint outline of the mountains she was using to guide her were indeed the ones that she thought they were.

She had lost track of time completely. Her only focus was to keep moving, but the snow was so deep that travelling only a few metres left her so drained that she felt as though she had traveled miles. Part of her brain had realised that her body was going into shock, her thoughts were scattered and her body that had felt so cold was now simply numb. The wind and swirling snow continued to press down on her. She knew that her body would begin to shut down soon.

Without remembering how it had happened, she found herself on her knees in the snow, slowly crawling forwards. A wolf howled somewhere ahead, and Jen decided that she would follow that noise. It howled again and again as though it was trying to find someone, but maybe her exhausted brain was trying to humanise the sound in its desperation.

The wolf howled again, but there was an edge to it this time. It sounded deeper, more human. Perhaps she was hallucinating, she probably was, but this was likely the only chance she would get. Jen propped herself up on her knees and raised her left hand, pouring any remaining strength that she had into the mark. It stuttered for a moment, then burned brightly, creating a green flash which lit up the valley around her.

That was all she could do. She fell face first into the snow, exhaustion overwhelming her. The wolf – no, man – shouted again and Jen just made out the words over the howling wind as she slipped from consciousness.

"Jennifer! It's the Herald! I've found her!"


	25. Chapter 25

She felt so warm and comfortable that she didn't want to open her eyes. Instead she lay in bed, slowly trying to remember the dream she had been having. There had been a lyrium corrupted dragon, commanded by a mutilated human that had called himself Corypheus. But as more came back to her she realised that it hadn't been a dream: she had to warn the others. She sat bolt upright and cried out as her bruised ribs protested furiously at her.

"Careful now," said Dorian reproachfully, "I only repaired those ribs a few hours ago, don't go ruining all my hard work!"

He took her by the shoulders and gently guided her into a sitting position, adjusting the cushions behind her.

"Dorian?" Jen asked, completely confused. She glanced around, realising that she was in one of the Inquisitions large twill-woven tents. There were multiple lit braziers set around her bed to keep her warm.

"A little addled are we?" he asked, taking the wooden chair beside her. "Well I suppose that would happen if you face down the Elder One and his pet dragon, race an avalanche and then travel five miles through a snow storm with broken ribs and a concussion." He smiled at her and took her pale hand in his tanned one.

Jen felt slightly chastised when he put it like that. "How many got away?" she asked quietly.

His expression softened and he squeezed her hand. "The majority of the townspeople and the Inquisition did get away. Your little stunt was worth it, but I wouldn't recommend it again. I was worried about you, everyone was. Iron Bull in particular was deeply unhappy."

"Why?" asked Jen.

"Because you ordered him to go, which he had to obey, but he is your bodyguard and he felt he had abandoned you." Jen was surprised by the insight Dorian seemed to have on Iron Bull. She hadn't thought they would speak much, given the tensions between Qunari and Tevinter.

"How did you find me?" Jen asked wearily. Her head was starting to spin again.

"We had started looking as soon as we were sure that the Red Templar army couldn't follow us. Cullen was quite insistent that you would have survived all that, he organised the search parties himself and lead one of them. It was him that found you."

"It was Cullen?" Jen was unable to keep the disbelief out of her voice.

"Yes," Dorian raised an eyebrow, "you do realise how important you are to the Inquisition don't you? And I'm not just talking about the mark here, you have basically been leading it."

"No I haven't," Jen replied, "I close rifts and do what needs to be done. I don't lead the Inquisition at all compared to Cassandra, Leliana, Josie and Cullen." She couldn't help but grimace.

"You have become the Inquisition's public face, they need you and they respect you."

Jen's headache was becoming stronger with every word Dorian said. She was so tired and didn't want to think.

"They don't need me." She said bluntly.

Dorian laughed. "This is why you so intrigue me, you don't see yourself very well do you?"

"I know exactly who I am thank you," Jen replied scathingly. Then recklessly she plunged on, maybe it was the aftermath of the concussion, or her exhaustion or the guilt getting too much to bear. "I was going to leave before we were attacked."

Dorian stiffened. "Why?" he asked slowly.

"Because I'm done here Dorian, I fixed the breach. I don't see any other reason to stay."

"I just told you why." His brown eyes fixed on her violet ones. "This is to do with your past isn't it? You mentioned it in Redcliffe."

"I—"

"That's a yes then," he frowned and let go of her hand. "I thought you were a brave woman, not a coward."

"It's not like that Dorian," Jen replied quickly.

He stood up. "We all have a past Jennifer, and some of them are painful. But regardless, you are doing good here. Who cares what you did before, so long as you are making up for it now."

"You sound like Leliana."

"Well perhaps you should listen to her then," he said in a disappointed tone as he made to leave.

Recoiling at his tone, Jen turned away from him pulling the blanket up to her chin. But she didn't want to leave it like that between them. Especially given he had clearly spent a lot of time and energy looking after her while she was unconscious.

"Dorian?" With an effort she turned back towards him.

"What?"

"Thank you for all that you have done for me."

His expression softened again as he looked back at her from the entrance to the tent. His hand paused on the flap of the tent, gripping it tightly.

"I wish you would let me help more," he murmured softly.

Jen said nothing. Sighing, Dorian left the tent without a backwards glance.

 **[A/N Apologies for the shorter chapter! I was going to upload more, but I wanted to spend a bit longer tweaking it first. The next chapter should be a lot bigger]**


	26. Chapter 26

It took her half an hour to muster the willpower to get out of the bed. As soon as Dorian left she had made her decision, but acting on an old wound in her battered state was difficult. Luckily her coat and boots had been left with her and once she put them on, their comforting familiarity lent her some strength. It seemed that the wind had at last abated as she moved into the night and was greeted by a great many tents arranged neatly in rows, some still lit by lanterns despite the lateness of the hour; she could smell the oil that fuelled them. Unfamiliar with the layout of their impromptu camp, she wasn't sure where exactly to begin her search, but she didn't think the council would be far from her. In fact, she caught a few words on the wind and recognised the Nevarran accent at once. Cassandra was up ahead and she was angry.

As she moved closer to the source of the noise, she realised that not only was it Cassandra that was there arguing, but also Leliana, Josephine and Cullen. The frustrations in each of the voices, regardless as to whether they were Orlesian, Nevarran, Fereldan or Antivan were clear. It seemed they had lost direction and in the wake of such a defeat, they were blaming each other.

"They have been like this for hours." Mother Giselle stepped out of the shadows from where too she was watching the Council of the Inquisition bicker like children. Unsurprisingly, Mother Giselle looked tired and disheveled, her red and white chantry robes were frayed in places and stained with soot.

"I am not surprised," Jen replied. "They are passionate people and care deeply for the cause. Each of them will feel responsible for what has happened." She made to go and join them, but Mother Giselle called out to her.

"Stop, I don't think adding another voice to the din will be productive at the moment."

"I know that," Jen said sincerely to the older woman. "I have something else I need to discuss with one of them."

Mother Giselle looked baffled, but deigned to nod her head and gestured for Jen to carry on.

"Good evening," Jen said as she entered their circle lit by torchlight.

All of them turned towards her from their positions peering over a large map in the middle of a wooden table and paused in their heated exchanges.

"But I asked Dorian to inform me when you woke!" Cassandra exclaimed, sounding annoyed. Silently Jen thanked Dorian, he was very insightful.

"How are you Jennifer?" asked Josephine, who frowned slightly at Cassandra. As usual Josephine was the most thoughtful of the group, even though Jen could see that the attack on Haven had taken its toll on her. Her eyes were hooded and her usually immaculate clothing was disheveled and dirty.

"Not bad all things considered," Jen said with a small smile for the Ambassador.

"That is good to hear," Josephine replied warmly.

"Thank you," Jen's eyes settled on Cullen. He too looked as though he hadn't slept, but that was less unusual for the Commander who behaved like a workaholic, up until late most nights surveying troop reports. She hadn't pondered it before, but she wondered if there was a reason he buried himself in his work like that.

"Cullen, I was hoping that we could continue the conversation we were having before we were attacked?"

Surprise clearly evident, Cullen rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

"Yes, but I thought you had made it clear that we were done?"

"You must have been mistaken," replied Jen smoothly who didn't fail to notice that Leliana had leaned forward imperceptibly, her curiosity piqued by the two of them.

"Cullen there is no time for this," Cassandra cut in brusquely, "and Herald, now that you are here we may be able to begin making a decision." Jen could see the frustration and anger still simmering beneath the surface of the Seeker, the way her hands clenched gave her away.

"We have not made any progress in the last hour," interjected Leliana. "We are all of us exhausted, but we are safe for the moment no? It would be better for us to digest what has happened and come together clear headed after some sleep, Maker knows I need some." Leliana ran her hand through her auburn hair, as through embarrassed at admitting a weakness, it was a good performance but Jen could see what she was doing and appreciated it immensely.

"Fine, fine," Cassandra held up her hands in defeat. "I can see I am outnumbered." She turned away from them, her shoulders sagging. Wondering whether she should do something, Jen was spared the bother when Leliana placed her arm around the Seeker, who did not shrug it off.

"Come on," she mouthed to Cullen who nodded. The walk to her tent was one of the most awkward few minutes that Jen had ever known. Desperately trying to formulate in her mind how to say out loud something that she had kept buried for so long, she really wasn't present at all when Cullen asked what was going on.

"Jennifer, are you there?" Cullen asked a little irritably.

"What— oh sorry," she said hanging her head. "I was lost in thought. Do you mind if we go in my tent? I think I am starting to get pretty cold again." As she spoke she realised that she was shivering. He nodded again, and waited for her to take the lead.

They entered the tent, and Jen sighed as she felt the warmth from the braziers hit her. Gesturing for Cullen to sit in the wooden chair at the side of the bed, because he had been hovering awkwardly near the tent opening, she perched on the edge of the small bed. Her heart was hammering, her stomach felt constricted.

"I don't understand why I am here to be honest," Cullen stated, his amber eyes piercing her. "You made it very clear that you have an issue with me, but won't do me the courtesy of saying why."

"I don't have an issue with you Cullen, I have an issue with myself. You just happen to be living reminder of that." She paused, taking in the hostility in the Commander's expression and then plunged on. "We met four years ago, not that you will know that."

"Four years ago? Where did we meet?" he asked in astonishment.

"I— I will come to that in a minute." Jen replied cautiously. "How much do you know about me Cullen?"

He leaned backwards, looking up at the canvas above them. "Not much other than your family name, and as I'm not a Freemarcher, I don't know much about the Trevelyans."

Taking a deep breath, Jen decided where to begin. "I am the only child of Thomas and Matilda Trevelyan, although my mother has had more children since. My father took his own life when I was ten years old you see. Got into a lot of debt, gambling."

"I'm so sorry," there was genuine sorrow in Cullen's tone, but Jen couldn't look at him as she remembered that terrible time.

"Thank you. My Uncle, the now Lord Trevelyan could have helped him, my father was convinced he would, but instead vilified him for his mistakes. He had brought the Trevelyan name into disrepute and there was no greater crime than that in our family." A slight tremor entered her voice as she spoke and her hands involuntarily grasped the duvet tightly.

"You don't need to tell me this," said Cullen kindly, his brow furrowed when Jen stole a glance up at him. "I can see this hurts you."

"Yes it does," she gritted her teeth, "but I need you to understand."

"When my Father died, my Mother fell apart, wouldn't even look at me. It was like I didn't exist anymore. I know now that it was the grief, but when you are ten and you are cut off from a parent after having just lost another. Well it messed me up. I couldn't process what was happening, so I lashed out and when that wasn't enough, I ran away."

It was so very strange to finally be telling her whole story, not parts twisted to suit.

"What happened then?" Cullen asked, who appeared to be intrigued despite himself.

"It was the blight and I was a pampered noble child who had never gone hungry before. Although the blight hadn't hit the Freemarches, its effects were being felt on food stocks as more people began to migrate from Fereldan. Everywhere people were struggling and they couldn't help me even if they had wanted to. I suffered, hungry and alone, but I was determined not to go back home to those who didn't want me. Then one day, an old man offered me shelter and food. Innocently I took his offer. My first mistake."

"Oh no," said Cullen quietly, leaning in towards her.

"It's not quite how you think, you see that man shaped me into who I am." Jen was barely able to contain her fury and Cullen was staring at her, clearly alarmed.

"What do you mean?"

"He beat me, punished me until I gave in and did it despite my protesting and conscience. I was afraid, and I wasn't strong enough as a child."

Cullen waited, horror on his face as he anticipated what she would say next. Taking a deep breath, she looked up at him.

"I was eleven by then, but he made me kill a man. I can still remember every detail of it," she whispered. "Anyway," she said in a falsely bright tone, "I won't go any further there. But by him and a Woman, I was shaped into an assassin. It was a clever strategy, no one suspects a child and as I got older I was used as a weapon in the Game."

"Does Leliana know this?" Cullen asked incredulously.

Jen laughed darkly. "Of course she does, it's not like the Nightingale to leave any stones unturned. So, where was I?" They were reaching the crux of it now, her palms were sweating and her voice began to shake again. "Ah yes, so that's how I lived for a long time, until one day I received news while out on a job that the Woman was dead. At that moment I fled, I was no longer going to be someone's puppet." She paused, choosing her words carefully now.

"But I was changed by it all and that life was the only way I knew to make my way in the world. The way they had broken me and built me back up, I loved killing, the rush of it. I thought that I wouldn't be able to escape it. So I didn't really flee, my reputation was soaring as an assassin and I continued to work on my own terms for gold. I made a lot. I'm quite good at it." she said as casually as though she was talking about the weather.

"Your reputation?" said Cullen in dismay. He leaned back in his chair, regarding Jen like a laboratory specimen, or else a particularly troublesome puzzle piece that refused to fit the jigsaw. "Who are you?"

"You already know I think."

"I don't understand," he said weakly.

"My last job before I became a mercenary was in Kirkwall." He stiffened in his chair, frozen. "It was me, Cullen. I was paid by Anders to make those hits on the Mages and incite rebellion." She could see it now, even after all the time had passed. Her primary target dead at her feet, their blood pooling on the floor. The smoke in the chantry, people screaming, fighting her way through to find Cullen, so she could claim her second bounty. Then more blood and—

"It was you!" Cullen shouted, pulling back from Jen, disgust evident in his expression. He jumped to his feet and turned away from her pacing up and down. "I saw the knife wounds on Orsino's body, I knew he had been killed before Anders had blown himself up. You started the initial panic and fighting that let him get in!" He pointed at her violently.

"I know," Jen whispered. Her face was flushed and her hands shook. But she gathered herself and stood to face him.

"I triggered it all, I was paid by Anders to murder Orsino and make it look as though a Templar did it. But you can't put all of the tensions in Kirkwall on me, I gave it a push, but it was broken long before I showed up. Besides, I never fulfilled my contract."

Cullen stopped pacing. "What do you mean?" he asked slowly. "It seems to me that you were pretty successful."

Jen couldn't help it, she laughed and as she did she felt the weight she carried shifting on her shoulders. "Ha, the fact that you are stood in front of me now says otherwise. I was also supposed to kill you."

"What?! Why are you telling me this!?" Cullen demanded.

"Because you deserve to know what happened!" she retorted heatedly, standing her ground. "I was going to kill you, but I lost sight of you as explosions and then the fires began. Anders hadn't told me he was going to do that, I didn't know. Do you remember when you saw me?"

"The hooded woman in black who was crouched over Roderick's body? I never saw their face, but that was you wasn't it!"

"Yes, it was." She was there again, the smell of blood mixing with smoke. Roderick at her feet, eyes wide and staring, a gaping hole in his chest. "Do— do you remember what I did?" she asked, voice trembling.

"You reached down and closed his eyes, I never understood that." Cullen said quietly.

"That's because I loved him."

Silence fell between them. Cullen stared at her in disbelief. "I met Roderick when preparing for the hit, I had never known someone so kind before. He disliked Meredith's methods and wanted to help, I hoodwinked him." She laughed again, although it sounded more like a sob. "I mislead him completely, but he trusted me and I couldn't help but fall for him. When I saw what had happened to him, the hole in his chest and all light gone from him. Something in me broke. I was an unfeeling creature before that, but suddenly— I felt alive again and fully realised what I had done." She sat back down on the bed, tears fell from her eyes for the first time in years.

"That is why I avoided you Commander," she sobbed, fighting hard not to break down completely, "because you remind me of all of that. How I had escaped yet carried on, how I caused so many to die including the man I had loved."

There was a silence again as the Commander stared at her. He nearly spoke several times, but caught himself as he processed his thoughts. Jen wiped her eyes furiously, disgusted at her weakness now when she needed to be coherent. Cullen had to be made to understand.

In the end he sighed quietly.

"I need time to process this, it changes my perspective on everything that happened back then. It changes everything."

He headed for the tent flap and did not look back as he strode through into the cold night. Paralysed by everything that she had relived as she recounted her life story, Jen sat, tears slowly running down her cheeks. Her ears became full of an indistinct buzzing sound as her heart rate rose, and her breathing came in gasps. There was a crunch of snow from outside the tent, caused by a careful footfall.

"Leliana, I know you are out there," Jen managed to say between the sobs which were causing her chest to rise and fall uncontrollably.

The crunching footsteps became louder and the Nightingale entered, shaking her head as she did to dislodge snow which had settled on her hood.

"You heard everything?" Jen asked knowing the answer.

"Yes."

The pity on Leliana's face was almost too much for Jen to stand. Quietly, Leliana crossed the room and sat down next to Jen. She took Jen's hand in hers and sat with her while Jen wept.


	27. Chapter 27

The next morning Jen awoke feeling oddly refreshed, which was unexpected. Yesterday had been difficult for so many reasons, but she had done it. She had finally faced her past, maybe now she could begin to move on from it. Regardless, her world had been turned completely on its head, Leliana – The Nightingale of all people – had helped her, had comforted her. Having spent so many years in the darkest places of the world, it was odd that the council of an enemy at that time had helped her realise what it was she needed.

"Ah, good morning!" Dorian said brightly as he entered. Although the smile was plain to see on his face, his grey robes were still dirty and the dark circles beneath his eyes remained.

"Morning," Jen replied sitting up. "Dorian, about yesterday, I'm sorry."

"Not to worry," he said as he began to examine her ribs. "I pushed quite hard, I wanted you to know how important you were, but maybe I shouldn't have done it when you were recovering from hypothermia." He winked.

"Perhaps not, but I'm grateful that you did—" she winced as he prodded her healing ribs particularly firmly.

"Oops, still tender?"

Jen nodded.

"I should be able to fix them properly now that you are more recovered," he placed his hand on her ribs again and closed his eyes. Light flowed from his palm into her and as he did Jen felt her upper body relax, no longer did it have to compensate for her injury.

"Better?" he asked.

"Much better, I owe you a drink at the next Tavern."

"I look forward to it," he responded with a smile again, his perfectly white teeth on display as he did.

Jen swung her legs out of bed and proceeded to dress fully. Dorian busied himself packing away his supplies, it seemed that the camp was being shut down, even though they were directionless.

"And how is our patient this morning?" Solas entered the tent nodding at Dorian and then looked at Jen intently.

"Much better thank you. Did you treat me as well?" Jen asked.

"I did, it is tricky to treat a patient who is so exhausted. It required all of the finesse Dorian and I possessed." He looked over at Dorian who bowed theatrically.

"Did you want something Solas?" Jen asked, watching the elf frown at Dorian's over exuberance.

"Yes, would you mind walking with me for a moment?"

They left the tent quickly once Jen was wrapped up against the cold and moved through the throng of Inquisition soldiers who were packing up their makeshift tents and few belongings. The townsfolk who had escaped with them were doing the same, they bore more worried expressions than the soldiers. She supposed that they faced a lot of uncertainty now that they had lost their homes and livelihoods. It was imperative, she realised, that the Inquisition succeed, so that the people of Haven could rebuild. As they walked through people stopped and nodded at her, or else pointed and spoke in hushed whispers.

"They think you rose from the dead to save them," said Solas offhandedly when he noticed her attention was taken by the stares and mutterings. _Great_ she thought wearily.

After leading her past the people to the expanse of untouched snow at its head, he stopped and turned to face her.

"What you did yesterday was quite remarkable, even more so that you survived to tell the tale. I have been scouring the fade for a new place for us to regroup and rebuild. We will need to as Corypheus will come again, he will not stop now that he knows you have the power to foil his plans. I believe I have found an ancient stronghold in these mountains that we can use. It is called Skyhold and I would like to show you it."

"Okay, but how?" she asked.

He sat down cross-legged on the snow and cast wards around them. "Normally only a mage can enter the fade in their dreams, but that mark, I believe, should allow you to do it too." Holding out his hand to her, his expression inquisitive, he added, "You asked before about the Fade, let me show you."

Intrigued, she sat on the snow and took his hand. It was as though cold water had been thrown over her. Gasping at the sensations, her mark flared once and then quietened. They were sat exactly where they had been before, except that the army behind them had vanished.

"Are we—"

"Yes we are in the fade," Solas anticipated her question with a smile. He stood, "Here," he held out his hand again. "Let me show you Skyhold."

Solas pulled her forwards and they were speeding through the landscape, the mountains a blur around them as they moved at an incredible velocity south east. Suddenly they came to a halt, below them nestled between the mountains was a huge ruined castle.

"How is a fortress like that unoccupied?" asked Jen in amazement.

"This was once a place of the ancient Elves, but once they faded away with time a fortress was built here by humans. I suppose as with many things, time passed and it was forgotten." His tone was sharp, it seemed that Solas disapproved of Skyhold being lost to time.

There was no wind in the fade, it was eery. Unconsciously Jen crossed her arms, but the strange surroundings she was in couldn't stop a feeling growing within her as she stared at the castle. It was hope.

* * *

It took them two days to reach Skyhold, and Jen was thankful it was no more. Luckily the preparations of the army for a training expedition meant tents and supplies had been available for the fleeing soldiers to bring with them, but the people of Haven themselves had nothing more than the clothes on their backs. There simply wasn't enough warm clothing and food to go around, and after a day of exposure to the elements the mages who had sided with the Inquisition were too fatigued to use magic to keep everyone warm. The mountains and their snowdrifts were great forces of nature; people were not meant to cross them in such numbers without preparation.

Skyhold was larger than she had thought it was when she had last seen it at a distance in the Fade. Jen traversed down the slope at the head of the travelling group to the foot of a great stone bridge that had been erected to lead to the castle itself. Taking a moment to absorb the stunning snowy landscape and the way the light glanced off the lake she could see in a valley beyond, Jen straightened her jacket with a frown. It felt oddly warm compared to the mountain air just behind her.

"It's quite something isn't it."

Varric had caught up with Jen and was admiring the castle himself.

"Yes it is," Jen replied with a smile at him. She noticed that for once his chest hair was not on show, hidden beneath his thick Carter coat. "Shall we go and have a look?"

"After you 'Herald'." If Varric ever used her title it was always ironically, "I want to speak to you about something as we walk." His jaw was set and his expression grim.

"What is it?" They set off moving across the bridge, Jen noting as she did so that it seemed to be in good repair despite the conditions it was exposed to. But then, there was little wind buffeting them, they must be more sheltered than she thought.

"I have heard that this Elder One you mentioned is actually called Corypheus?" Varric asked, his voice strained.

"Yes, that is what he said. Why?" Jen regarded him shrewdly.

"I have encountered Corypheus before," he said angrily, "and he is meant to be dead. I saw him dead."

"What? When was this Varric?" Jen asked, stopping.

"I'm sorry, if what you say is true I must send a letter at once." He began to turn away, back towards the group that was slowly following them in the distance.

"Varric? Where are you going?"

"There is someone who knows more than me about this mess, someone we need." Varric strode away from her, "I had hoped it wouldn't come to this."

Jen stood and watched him hurry off, back to the caravan of people and supplies that was following. Suspecting who it was that he needed to contact, she shrugged and turned back to the wondrous castle, with its large keep in the centre and three particularly tall towers looming above that.

Her boots clinked on the stone as she entered through the wall by a gap in the old rotten wooden doors. Pausing for a moment she surveyed the enormous castle in its broken state, trees were growing up through the flagstones of the courtyard and poking through walls of the stone buildings that surrounded her. Her mark fluttered gently confirming what she had suspected, there was magic infused within Skyhold itself. The walls seemed riddled with it from what little her mark and untrained eyes could ascertain. Reaching out, she placed a hand on the great stone wall: it felt warm.

It must have been magic that sheltered Skyhold from the wind and allowed the trees to grow. A little sanctuary in the middle of a harsh landscape.

"You are right," said a small voice up ahead.

Jen straightened up, narrowing her eyes against the glare of the sun. A boy was sat on the edge of a set of stone steps that rose up sharply to what looked like an upper courtyard. His legs were swinging against the step below, a wide brimmed hat adorned his head, obscuring his pointed pale face.

"I know you," she stated, staring at him in puzzlement. "But I had forgotten you. I don't forget a face?" She ran her hand through her hair and sat next to the strange young man, noting the patches on his breeches and sleeves of his jacket. Perhaps her concussion had caused her to forget him, but something was tugging at her memory and she didn't think that was the case.

"I made you forget, you had other things to worry about. I tried to make it easier for you."

"Why?" It was coming back to her — Cole. He had tried to warn them ahead of Corypheus' attack on Haven.

"I hear your pain, confusion, your fault you think. Guilt, unsure what to do. The Commander, you think you hurt him, maybe you did, but he hurt himself. Gave him someone to blame." Blurting the words out so fast Jen barely caught them all, he stared straight ahead, his posture stiff.

"What?" How did he know that? She reached out to grab his wrist, but as her fingers brushed over his unnaturally cold skin she gasped in surprise and he instantly recoiled, shrinking away from her.

"Don't!" he squeaked then muttered to himself. "Make her forget again – I've not got it right – need to try again."

"Cole, don't make me forget you," Jen said sternly.

"Why not? I frightened you?"

She laughed. "You didn't frighten me, you puzzle me definitely, but you did help before. Now, can you tell me how you knew what I was worrying about?" The tone she used was more akin to the way she would talk to a child, but it seemed to calm him. Instead he thought for a moment, his pale face scrunched up in concentration.

"I feel," he said slowly, "what you feel. What others feel." He looked up at her, his eyes willing her to understand.

"How do you feel it?" Jen asked incredulously.

"You– you don't?" he replied anxiously.

"No, I only feel what I feel."

"That's the same then," he said with a smile, swinging his legs happily.

Jen doubted that it was, but it seemed that Cole felt the emotions of others as easily as she was able to feel her own. Given the way she had lived with that part of her shut off for so many years, was it so surprising that whatever Cole was, because he wasn't the shabby youth he appeared to be, made him sensitive to others? In a world where there was so much pain, it didn't seem a stretch for her that some beings would be more perceptive than humans, or elves or dwarves.

"You don't know what I am, but you don't mind?" he asked, his eyes wide and serious.

"No, I don't mind."

"Then I shall try not to mind either," he said resolutely with a smile. Then he stared at her, and she felt as though her body and thoughts were being read, her secrets and guilt pulled forwards for him to sift though.

"Your pain is old," he whispered quietly, "but you are trying to stop it, trying to atone for it. A heart breaking, losing something precious is hard. You take on too much."

"How so?" she asked, involuntarily gritting her teeth as memories surfaced in her mind that she did not want to examine.

"He owned that pain, he blamed himself for not acting sooner. Now you want him to blame you, he knows this, yet he knows that he could have stopped it all regardless. He had been managing that, living with it, in turmoil without the song for comfort, but now it is fresh again: raw."

"I see," Jen said in a small voice, trying to understand. "I tried to do what was right Cole." Her heart felt constricted at the thought of causing Cullen further pain, she had wanted to relieve him of that responsibility.

"You did," Cole replied simply.

She looked up at the main gate from which she had just come; the sound of marching had reached her ears distracting her from the conversation. Standing slowly, she didn't notice Cole slink away, instead she stared, waiting for the Inquisition to burst through into the castle and claim it as their own. Solas stepped through gracefully, his attention directed upwards at the great towers above. He was smiling as he took in the crumbling courtyard, before he looked over his shoulder. Commander Cullen appeared behind him, his face shaded by his gloved hand against the winter sun. Jen could hear that he was shouting for his soldiers to fan out and they burst from behind him, spreading out to secure the castle. It was the first time she had seen him in two days. He had kept himself separate from the others, focusing on keeping the caravan of people moving. Turning Cullen's eyes fixed on her and it was as though he saw into her soul. He knew more about her now than anyone, she had laid herself bare for him. Her face flushed, but she found now that finally she was equal to him. She did not look away in guilt or despair at the memories seeing him conjured in her mind. Instead she nodded at him and his stern expression softened, the furrow of his brow easing. He smiled.


	28. Chapter 28

**Three Days Later**

Jen stood on the battlements of Skyhold, surveying the beautiful mountains landscape around her and leaning on the warm stone that was bathed in the morning sun. A massive clear up operation had been ongoing as soon as the members of the Inquisition had taken over, and the effort of their labour, and hers, she thought wryly were beginning to be seen. The trees that had been taking over the courtyard had been uprooted and moved to the garden they had found behind the castle. That was at Solas' request. As a result of their work, the great stones had mostly been replaced already.

A door nearby creaked open and she lifted her head to see who had sought her out.

"Jennifer, may I speak with you?" Josephine asked warmly, smiling as she followed Jen's gaze to the view beyond the ramparts.

"Of course," Jen said straightening her jacket as she turned to face the Ambassador. As usual she always felt a little underdressed around Josephine, her ruffles and silks were always perfectly tailored. But then she remembered how long it must take her to get into such clothing and she was suddenly very happy with her leather jacket.

"We all wish to speak with you actually," said a deeper voice from the stairs. Cullen came through the doorway, followed by both Cassandra and Leliana. He was smiling at her.

"Erm, am I in trouble?" Jen replied uncertainly holding up her hands

"Not at all," Josephine replied, then turned to the others saying quickly, "see I told you she would think that."

Leliana looked as though she was trying not to laugh, raising an eyebrow at Jen from behind Cassandra. The Seeker on the other hand looked irritated. "We have a proposal for you Jennifer," she announced abruptly crossing her arms. "The Inquisition needs a leader, one who has already been leading it."

Eyes wide, Jen laughed in disbelief. They must be joking. They must be, but the others did not join in.

"We are serious Jennifer," Leliana confirmed quietly.

"But, you know me?" she said imploringly to Leliana and Cullen. "I am not the person who should be leading the Inquisition. I have the bad luck of this thing," she raised her left hand with the mark on it impatiently, "but I am not a good person. I shouldn't lead this, in fact I will damage it. Do they even know who I really am?" she nodded in the direction of Cassandra and Josephine.

Josephine glanced at Cassandra, who nodded imperceptibly in agreement.

"We know." Josephine said in a measured tone. "It is Leliana's duty to share with us information that is critical to the Inquisition's success and sadly your past falls into that category."

"Then you know that I am hired killer," she whispered darkly, realising as she did that she still struggled to say it out loud.

"I admit, it wasn't what I expected," replied Josephine. "But it is little worse than being a Bard, something Leliana and myself – albeit more unsuccessfully – have dabbled with in the past." Jen was surprised at the small admission, she had thought that the Ambassador would have always been as prim and proper as she was now.

"You can't have been happy about this Cassandra?" Jen pleaded desperately to the taller woman who was frowning.

"I was not at all," her brown eyes fixed on Jen's intently. "I am trained to find such secrets and I admit, I knew you were hiding something. You have mentioned both being near Kirkwall when it fell and your past as a mercenary, in both instances you diverted attention away from yourself, sharing as little as possible. Despite our early disagreements however, you have grown into leading our party out in the field. I trust your decisions, even if I did not always trust you."

"You would be happy for the Inquisition to be lead by someone like me?" she asked quietly.

Slowly the Seeker nodded, her expression resolute. Unable to process the faith that Cassandra was willing to put in her, Jen's mind cast around, desperate for any reason not to agree.

"A great deal of damage could be done to the Inquisition's reputation if anyone was to discover who I really am," Jen argued.

"Is there anyone else other than those of us stood on this rampart that can link your previous exploits with Jennifer Trevelyan?" Josephine asked with concern.

"Leliana?" Jen stared intently at the Spymaster, knowing that Leliana would know who she was thinking of.

"My scouts still haven't found any more information on that particular assignment," she replied firmly.

"I–"

"Stop making excuses and accept the position."

Everyone turned to Cullen who was stood leaning against the stone wall of the tower. He flushed a little as he realised he had spoken out loud, but straightened up and faced Jen with an air of determination. "You are doing something good here Jennifer and although we do need your mark, it has become apparent that we need you more."

She couldn't look at him, instead her throat constricted as a lump formed. The situation was too bizarre and her previous iron control over her emotions, which had been fracturing at an alarming rate recently was not there to allow her to push the situation away.

He moved towards her and tentatively took her hand, forcing her to look up at him. "I know I haven't spoken to you for days. I needed time to think things over, but Maker's breath, you deserve what I was lucky enough to find in the Inquisition myself. You deserve a second chance Jennifer, please take it."

Her eyes darted to Leliana, who nodded encouragingly. Jen wondered when it was that she had decided to put so much trust in the Nightingale's judgement. In the courtyard below a rhythmic sawing echoed from far side as the soldiers returned to the restoration work and the tools they had set down the previous night. She felt like a child again, indecisive and lost. So far devolved from the cold hearted killer she had been, but she knew that if she was to truly commit to finding another way, she would have to allow herself to move on. Slowly she withdrew her hand from Cullen's grasp.

Taking a deep breath, she weighed every word before she spoke.

"I will do it."

Josephine let out a giggle of delight and embraced Jen before she even knew what was happening. Then she felt a hand on her shoulder, Cullen grasped it tightly with a smile before turning and disappearing through the door and down the steps beyond it. When Josephine finally released her, Cassandra gave her satisfied nod, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

"Come with me," Leliana said, holding out her hand.


	29. Chapter 29

Two hours later Jen had finally managed to escape for a moment to the nearly finished tavern. It was a testament to the priorities of soldiers that it was so close to completion – and fully operational already – when the great hall still remained covered in debris, hardly touched since the Inquisition moved in. She had occupied a table in a corner on the first floor, away from the bustling below. Her head was spinning as she tried to process the fact that she was now somehow the Inquisitor. Every person who had bought into what they were doing was now her responsibility. Being determined not to fail them would help, she was sure, but it was she who would be blamed if something went wrong. If she lead the Inquisition along the wrong path and people died— she hoped that she would be able to deal with it.

Idly she picked at the sleeve of the black long sleeved silk top that had been fashioned for her for the ceremony. It was embroidered in silver thread with the symbol of the Inquisition, an eye with a sword vertically going through it. With it she wore soft grey breeches and grey boots. It was comfortable at least. Her hair had been tamed too, having been brushed through thoroughly and two plaits had been added, starting from in front of her ears and leading to the back of her head where they were combined to form a larger braid. She hadn't been pampered so much since she was a child. All of it had been necessary for the ceremony according to Josephine, the ceremony where the people of Skyhold – to her disbelief – had roared in delight as she had been announced Inquisitor.

"This is for you Kid," Jen raised her head from the table where she had been resting it. Varric was holding out a tankard for her, a kind expression on his face. Placing it in front of her, he set his own on the table and sat down next to her.

"Varric, it can't be later than eleven o'clock in the morning," she said in disbelief as she smelt the hops of the ale in front of her.

"So?" he replied grinning. "I thought you could probably use it."

Jen contemplated the tankard for a moment, wrinkling her nose at it before taking a long swig.

"You know, I never used to be much of a drinker," she said conversationally.

"Why did you take it then?" Varric asked, perplexed.

She played with the bottom of her cup, thinking before deciding to answer honestly.

"Because you are right Varric, I do need it." A small smile played at her lips. "However, for future reference I generally prefer something a little sweeter, or else whisky if they have it."

He laughed, taking a swig of his own ale and banged the mug on the table.

"This is going to make quite the tale when it's over, particularly the bit about the Inquisitor that 'isn't much of a drinker' yet prefers whisky. People will think I'm definitely making it up when they read it!"

"I'm sure you will think of a way to sell it," she winked at him, then surveyed him for a moment as she decided whether or not to broach a topic that had been puzzling her.

"So, is Hawke coming here?"

Varric froze mid-swallow.

"How did you know I had asked her?" he whispered, looking around to make sure that they weren't at risk of being overheard.

"I figured that you would still be in contact," Jen said with a shrug. "The way you talk about her, you clearly respect her a lot. I've got to know you over the past months Varric, you have helped me and the others a lot. You look out for your friends, odds on you would strive to protect your closest ones the most from a persistent Seeker. For example," she added with a grin.

He held up his hands looking impressed, but then became thoughtful. "You never told me that story, you know Kid. The one that you have never told." He studied her carefully.

"Why would you be interested in that now?" asked Jen, stiffening. That was her automatic response, but she had to realise now that all her advisors – her advisors, that's a strange thought – knew about her. Maybe whispers had reached Varric's ears; she knew he had been in charge of his own small spy ring in the past. Or perhaps her inner circle should know a little more about her... as long as it didn't put her at risk.

He smiled kindly at her and something slotted into place.

"You already know, don't you?"

"You are sharp Kid, but I did think you would have thought a bit more about it before now," Varric said with a sigh.

"How long have you known?"

"That someone going by the name Raven had helped Blondie – sorry Anders to you – to bring Kirkwall to its knees? I've known that since it happened," he said sadly.

"And how long—"

"How long have I known that you and Raven are one and the same? I suspected it from the first time I saw you fight. The way you seem to dance between enemies is much more a hallmark of an assassin than a mercenary."

"You must have had more than that?" she said coldly. She had thought that Varric was a friend, but it seemed he had just been trying to get information out of her.

"Blondie described you to me."

"Anders is dead! You can't have known, otherwise you would have stopped him!" She had checked. After Rodderick, she had wanted to be sure.

"I found him in the rubble of the chantry building, barely alive. Justice had left him you see."

"Who was Justice?"

Varric whistled softly. "You really didn't know what you were part of did you? Justice was the Demon or Spirit, hell I'm not really sure exactly what it was, who had become entwined with Anders spirit, who controlled him for periods of time in order to fulfil its own agenda."

"Anders was an abomination?" Jen gasped. "I thought he was unhinged, but I didn't want to look too closely. I didn't need to," she gritted her teeth, remembering the heavy pouch full of gold that he had given her.

"He spoke of a young woman he had employed, said you wore a mask so he didn't see your face properly. But he remembered your height, black hair and most interestingly blue, nearly violet eyes."

Silence fell between them. For what felt like the millionth time, Jen wished that she had never taken that job.

"So why have you stayed with the Inquisition – with me – all this time?" Jen asked. It made no sense, she had helped to destroy his home, yet all Varric had done was get to know her better.

"I don't blame you." He laughed when he saw the incredulous expression on her face. "Like I said, you don't know what you were part of. Tensions were so high, Mage and Templar relations were at breaking point sure. Add to that the fact that the city had never been governed properly, the city guard were understaffed and the Qunari were also stirring up trouble. We all knew something was going to go."

"People died Varric," the words caught in her throat.

"They did, but most of it was caused by Justice in the explosions. Your actions just gave the Hornets nest a kick, before he blew the whole damn thing up. We should have seen it coming," he finished bitterly.

"Yes, we should old friend."

A woman in her early thirties was sat on the windowsill to their left having just climbed in through it. She stood and confidently walked towards them. Her boots pounding softly against the floorboards. She was equipped for travelling, a thick dark brown cloak was wrapped around her which looked well worn, fraying on the edges and a large pack was strapped to her back. Attached to her bag was a simple wooden staff, which posed as a walking stick, but Jen suspected it's function was not limited to a walking aid. Jen had read about this woman in Varric's own books. The short and spiky dark hair, brown eyes and multiple piercings on each ear were exactly as he had described. Lucy Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall.

Jen and Varric both stood quickly, the latter letting out a small laugh, a wide grin on his face. He was clearly delighted to see his best friend. Jen on the other hand crossed her arms and surveyed the Champion warily, noting the knife fixed to her boot and the bulge beneath her cloak which suggested a dagger hung there. Hawke's eyes also put Jen on guard, they were piercing as she took in her surroundings, but also they carried a haunted look. The look of a survivor.

"It's good to see you!" said Varric happily, reaching for his friend and hugging her. Jen noticed that Hawke looked as equally pleased at seeing the Dwarf, her countenance softening considerably as she hugged Varric fiercely.

"Decided to sneak in did you?" Varric asked as he released Hawke and gestured to the window.

"I couldn't be bothered to wait outside," she said, a hint of mischief twinkling in her eye. "Besides I'm sure Leliana must know I am here, hopefully she is keeping it quiet for now."

Jen stored away the information that Hawke was acquainted, at the very least, with Leliana for later. It was fascinating how far the Spymaster's network reached.

"So are you the Herald?" Hawke asked gruffly, surveying Jen with a frown.

"I am yes," Jen replied guardedly.

"Inquisitor as of this morning," added Varric brightly.

Unable to stop it, Jen rolled her eyes, causing a small smile to play on Hawkes lips.

"I'd prefer it if you just called me Jen or Jennifer," she said exasperatedly.

"Or Kid," Varric interjected again.

"Varric!" Jen chastised the Dwarf angrily.

Hawke glanced at both of them, then burst out laughing. Varric joined in, but Jen wasn't listening; her name had been mentioned below.

"Quiet," she whispered frantically.

"What is it?" asked Varric nervously, his grin fading from his face.

"Cassandra is below asking for me."

"Shit," replied Varric.

Hawke's eyebrows were raised as she took in what was said. It seemed that she was more than aware of the Seeker's interest in her, because she strode quickly to the window and opened it quietly.

"Where can I meet you that is more private?" she asked quickly as she clambered back up onto the sill.

Still listening to the chatter below Jen realised that the Seeker's footsteps were heading towards the bottom of the stairs.

"There is a tower on the east side of the battlements that hasn't been touched by the repair teams yet, meet us there," she whispered hurriedly. Nodding once, Hawke climbed back out of the window.

Hastily Jen sat back down at the table and looked pointedly at Varric, who joined her.

"Ah there you are Inquisitor," Cassandra appeared at the top of the stairs. Jen noticed a slight frown appear as Cassandra took in the tankards in front of them.

Varric must have noticed too because he said, "Oh come on Seeker, she deserves a drink after that ceremony this morning. She has signed her life away for now!"

"She has not signed her life away," snapped Cassandra adopting the irritated tone that she seemed reserve specially for Varric.

"I need to speak with you Inquisitor, I wouldn't normally ask for help, but I fear I will need it this time," her brow creased in worry.

"What is it?" asked Jen. She was intrigued, it was unusual for Cassandra to ever admit that she needed help. The warrior tended to take so much on herself, and more often than not succeed.

"I'd prefer to discuss it alone," she fired pointedly at Varric.

Holding his hands up in defeat, Varric vacated the table. "I will catch you later Kid," he said over his shoulder as he made his way back downstairs.

Cassandra continued to hover, biting her lip. Deciding to take pity on the awkwardness of the Seeker, Jen gestured to the seat Varric had just left.

"Care to join me?" she asked warmly.

"Yes - sorry. I'm a bit distracted." Cassandra said, sitting down.

Jen leaned forward waiting for the Seeker to begin. Finally Cassandra seemed to have ordered her thoughts.

"Do you know what the purpose of the Seekers actually is?" she asked.

"No, I always assumed you were a type of Templar," Jen replied honestly, wondering how she had not thought to ask Cassandra.

"Not exactly," Cassandra said, "although that is a common misconception. The Seekers of Truth are an ancient order that was created to police the Templars. As such we are completely separate from them and our abilities are not fuelled by lyrium."

"Has what you want to ask me got something to do with your Order?" Jen asked.

"You are perceptive as ever," Cassandra replied. "The Seeker's have vanished."

"What? When?" Jen asked, sitting up straighter.

"I can't be sure, but no more than a month after the conclave."

Jen's mind sprung into action, trying remember if she had encountered any information that would be relevant.

"That vile man who was at Val Royeux," she said slowly, "he was a Seeker wasn't he?"

Bristling Cassandra ran her hand through her short dark hair in agitation, "Yes, 'that vile man' was Lord Seeker Lucius, the head of our order."

"I see," Jen replied, deciding to ignore the sarcasm with which Cassandra had responded. "Do you think he has something to do with it?"

"I don't know, Leliana thinks that she has found them," Cassandra took a deep breath, "and I would like your help to investigate Inquisitor."

Having sworn to herself that the next time she saw Lord Seeker Lucius, she would kill him, Jen wasn't sure that she was the best person to go with Cassandra.

"Are you sure you want me as part of the party?"

Cassandra sighed, her dark brown eyes locking on Jen's. "Of course, I trust you to have my back in a fight."

"Do you expect it to come to that?"

"I— I worry that it might, the rumours that Leliana has picked up on are not good. I'm scared for them," she finished in a small voice.

Reaching out, Jen squeezed Cassandra's hand. "Work out a plan, who we need and where exactly we are going. We will set off as soon as you are ready."

"Thank you Inquisitor," Cassandra said earnestly.

"That is the fourth time you have called me Inquisitor during this conversation," Jen said lightly. "Please call me by my name, just because I have yet another title doesn't mean that I wish my friends to use it when speaking to me."

"I am sorry Jennifer," apologised Cassandra. Jen could see that she was touched at being referred to as a friend.

"Not to worry," Jen found that she didn't mind as much as she may have in the past. Or maybe it was that she respected Cassandra and did indeed think of her as a friend. It was a rare thing for her to find. "Now I need to go and catch up with Varric, I promised that I would look over his improvement plans for Bianca," she said with a sigh, standing up, but in reality her mind was in anticipation, thinking of Hawke waiting in the ruined tower. She wanted to know why Varric had sent for her. "Let me know when you are ready for me to look over the brief," Jen added.

"I will," Cassandra replied.

Taking care to make sure that she wasn't followed, Jen scaled the steps to the top of the wall, heading directly for the tower. She paused with her hand on the rotten wood of the door, glancing back at the courtyard below, but it seemed that no one had noticed her. Every person had a role in Skyhold at the moment working to make the place habitable, so despite her prominent position it was easy to slip through.

"Took your time," grumbled Hawke who was lounging nonchalantly against a wooden support beam fixed inside the middle of the tower. It looked as though it's function had been to support a floor above them, but this had fallen away so that the floor was littered with rotting wooden boards.

"Where is Varric?" Jen stepped over the debris, looking around.

"He popped out to get a bottle of whisky he has stashed away, it has been ages since I have had a good drink," a smile played around Hawke's lips as she said it.

They stood in silence for a moment, each weighing the other up. Finally Jen broke it.

"How much of my conversation with Varric did you hear earlier?" she asked.

"Oh when you were talking about Kirkwall?" Hawke asked, clearly surprised by the question. "Most of it, but Varric has already told me about your involvement there."

Trying to suppress her anger that details of her past seemed to be being passed on to to strangers, Jen clenched her fists and then released them.

Noticing this Hawke raised her eyebrows.

"Don't blame Varric, we both have been looking for you for some time, but I must admit I didn't expect to find you as the Inquisitor. Fate is a messed up thing."

"It is indeed," murmured Jen, unconsciously glancing at her left hand.

Hawke folded her arms, frowning. "I can see that you need to hear this, so I will make it quick. Kirkwall wasn't your fault. Anders was insane by the end," her face twisted painfully. "We know that you were to make the hit, which you did, but we also know you didn't know what he had really planned. You were despicable to do what you did," Jen's head snapped up, "but I would be lying if I said I hadn't done equally immoral things."

She squared up to Jen, invading her personal space and stared at her intently. It was unnerving, but Jen met her as an equal. Regardless of Hawke's title and the respect she had gained as her legend had spread throughout Thedas, she did not back down to anyone.

"Kirkwall was my fuck up, not yours," she whispered menacingly. "I own that pain. I'm to blame for pushing Anders away when he tried to reach out, so he felt that extreme actions were all he thought left to him. I lost him and as a result everyone suffered," her voice cracked, her suffering clear to see, but it was different to Jen's own approach. Although she was haunted, she did not lie. Hawke owned her pain rather than her pain owning her. It made sense now: she had cared for Anders. Unable to help it, she stepped back from Hawke, sensing within her a familiar turmoil.

"Yes, yes. You are both two messed up idiots who take on too much!"

Unnoticed by either of them Varric had returned and was swinging a bottle of whisky around in lazy circles, looking up at them both with an impish grin on his face. "It's an important criteria for anyone who hangs around with me."

Jen's attention returned to Hawke, they looked at each other for a moment longer, then both burst out laughing at the truth of what Varric had said. Finally, after getting her breath back, Jen offered her hand to Hawke.

"You were right, I did need to hear that."

Hawke assessed her for one further moment before she took Jen's hand and squeezed it tightly.

"Just be glad I was here to do it! My own experience of the hard truth came from this dear dwarf," Varric bowed ostentatiously, "and a pirate who solves every problem with excessive amounts of whisky."

"Well it distracted you didn't it," said Varric, uncorking the whisky and pouring three glasses.

"Waking up on my own front lawn, with no shirt on surrounded by bottles was certainly distracting!" laughed Hawke taking one of the glasses.

"Come on Kid," Varric said, offering her the third glass.

Taking it, Jen looked around at them both and smiled. She held up her glass, and the other two hit theirs into hers, before they all downed them simultaneously.

"Right, so what is it that you know about Corypheus?" asked Jen.

"Well, we thought that we had killed him for a start," said Varric softly, glancing at Hawke, who had sat on a precarious looking pile of beams that had fallen from above.

"Yes," Hawke said closing her eyes. "I remember sticking my dagger through his heart several times," she murmured, before opening her eyes.

"That didn't work," Jen stated.

"Obviously not," Hawke quipped with irritation.

"How did you end up in that situation?" Jen asked wanting to know anything that could be useful. To stop Corypheus any information on the unknown abomination would be helpful.

"Varric?"

"We were lured to Corypheus' prison by a faction of the Carta. Turned out that they had been corrupted by darkspawn blood by Janeka, a mad Grey Warden who wanted to bind Corypheus to her will. They trapped us there, the only way to get out was to break the seals on the prison, freeing Corypheus," he explained anxiously.

"Why were you in particular tricked into going there? Seems like a lot of effort that Grey Warden went to?" asked Jen curiously.

Sighing Hawke buried her face in her hands, then ran her hand through her short black hair in agitation.

"Because of my Father," she said flatly. "He was an apostate, that I think, happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Those seals had been weakening for centuries, so much so that before I was born, the Grey Wardens realised that they needed to be strengthened urgently. From what I can gather, they decided to kidnap my father and forced him to use blood magic to reinforce the seals. Hence they needed the 'blood of a Hawke' to break them," Hawke finished bitterly.

"So how did Corypheus come back from the dead? I presume you killed him when you accidentally let him out?"

"That's the mystery, I thought I'd put that bastard in the ground for good! What is he to survive that? I used magic to rip him apart."

"It might not be quite as much a mystery now," Varric said with trepidation. "The Seeker told me that Warden –Commander Larius – the one who helped us in the prison–" he added as Hawke raised an eyebrow enquiringly, "never returned to the Order."

"You think Corypheus used him to escape somehow?" Hawke asked slowly.

"It's just a theory, I know," Varric said, holding up his hands. "But with all the shit we have seen, I wouldn't be surprised."

"The Grey Warden's have all but disappeared," Jen added, making the link between their absence and the revelation of their involvement in Corypheus. "Leliana has asked me to look into it, but so far I have only found one Grey Warden who has joined us here, Blackwall. He didn't know anything, claiming that he lives a nomadic lifestyle, recruiting as he travelled alone across Fereldan." She paused, remembering how she had meant to find out more about Blackwall, but had not yet found the time.

"Leliana is right to be worried about their disappearance," Hawke adjusted her perch on the wooden boards. "A Grey Warden friend of my own has been in contact. That is another reason that I am here. I need to speak with him properly, but it seems that they have disappeared because they have heard the Calling."

"What, all of them at the same time?" asked Varric sharply.

"What's the Calling?" Jen questioned, looking from Varric to Hawke.

Biting her lip, Hawke answered, "It is the price of drinking darkspawn blood to become a Grey Warden. Eventually they are called to the deep roads by a compulsion caused by their abilities. Grey Wardens do not grow old, instead they hear the Calling and march to the darkest places of this world, hoping that they will take some darkspawn with them. If they choose not to, they are driven mad as they become darkspawn themselves and end up there anyway."

"I see," said Jen, not knowing what else to say to that. However, it made her wonder what it was exactly that Alessia Cousland was off doing.

"Like I said," Hawke got to her feet and brushed down her cloak, "I will send on word when I know more."

"You aren't staying?" Varric asked looking crestfallen.

"I can't old friend," she apologised softly. "I need to find out what is going on. You know how it is, I'm always poking my nose in where it isn't wanted!"

"Amongst other things," Varric retorted with a bark of a laugh.

Hawke nodded, a grin on her face before looking back at Jen and her expression became more serious.

"Jen, I might need the Inquisitions help if all of this is as bad as I fear."

"I will make sure you have it," responded Jen at once. "This title has got to be good for something," she joked.

"Thank you. I will see you both again soon." With that Hawke adjusted her cloak with a flourish and left the room without a backwards glance.

"Shit," muttered Varric after a moment. He strode across the room, and seemed to be looking for something, before pausing and staring at the door that Hawke had just passed though.

"What?" asked Jen with a frown, hoping that Varric didn't have any other revelations about Corypheus that he had failed to mention.

"She's stolen my whisky!"

 **[A/N Apologies for the erratic uploads recently. I hope that the fact that this is my longest chapter yet makes up for it!]**


	30. Chapter 30

The rest of the day passed in a blur of paperwork and looking at the improvement work going on at Skyhold. All of a sudden, it seemed everything required her signature or else her approval. She did not know how things had been done without her there to give the Inquisition's seal of approval. It made her hope with more enthusiasm that Cassandra swiftly had success in arranging an expedition to find out where the Seeker's had vanished to. It was exhausting having to please so many people, and she longed to escape the castle for a while and hit the road again.

Eventually she had escaped Josephine's pointed questions about her family. She had wanted the political support of the Trevelyans, but Jen hadn't wanted to open that can of worms when she already felt overwhelmed. Instead, after changing to attract less attention, she was headed to the tavern for a meal and a pint with Iron Bull who had been her rescuer.

However, the door of the tavern burst open before they could reach it and Krem appeared, worry clearly visible on his face.

"Boss, Inquisitor! Cassandra has found out that Hawke has been here and she is going after Varric!"

"Crap," Jen replied glancing at Iron Bull. A sinking feeling formed in her stomach as she realised that going behind Cassandra's back probably wasn't the best course of action.

"Where are they now?" she asked quickly.

"First floor of the tavern," replied Krem at once.

"Bull, I will catch up with you later," Jen apologised setting off at a run into the tavern and up the wooden stairs, ignoring the interested looks the punters we're giving her. She reached the landing and was greeted by the sight of Cassandra pinning Varric to a table, her hands around his neck. Varric struggled and managed to throw the Seeker off breaking free, darting backwards to put a table between himself and the Seeker.

"You little shit!" Cassandra howled with rage. "You knew where she was the whole time! Even when you knew the Inquisition needed a leader!"

"That's why I kept her hidden!" Varric shouted back, equally incensed. "Hawke has been through more than enough, she deserves more than to be used by the Chantry!"

Cassandra made to dodge around the table and grab Varric again, but the dwarf moved with her and they ended up circling each other. Stunned, Jen did not move, watching the rage radiating from the Seeker, her body shaking with anger and frustration. She had never seen Cassandra lose control like this before, it was formidable to say the least.

"You are not trustworthy," Cassandra shouted savagely. "You should not be here! We tried to find Alessia Cousland but couldn't. You knew this, yet you continued to lie about Hawke!" She lunged at him again, but Varric managed to avoid her.

Unable to back away any further, Varric was now up against the wall holding his hands in front of him. "You have a leader and she is doing a better job than either of those two would have! Hawke needed time away to deal with everything that had happened!" he insisted frustratedly.

"That was not your call to make!" Cassandra yelled back at him.

"Enough!" Jen bellowed in annoyance, deciding that it had gone far enough.

"But Inquisitor—" Cassandra began in frustration.

"I said enough Cassandra."

"You are taking his side!?" she gasped in disbelief. "If Hawke had been at the Conclave maybe— maybe most holy wouldn't have died," Cassandra's voice cracked and she turned away from them in an effort to hide her distress.

"I was protecting my friend! You know what I think?" he fired back at her in anger. "If Hawke had been at the Conclave, she would have died too!"

"Just go Varric," Cassandra whispered in weakly. "Please just go."

Gaping at the behaviour of her two friends, Jen stepped aside as Varric passed her looking dejected.

Once he had gone, Jen approached Cassandra cautiously, who was leaning on the very windowsill that Lucy Hawke had entered through some hours ago.

"I am not taking Varric's side," she began, "but the way you kicked off back there: that was beneath you." Jen was unable to disguise the disappointment in her tone. That Cassandra would be unhappy with Varric was a given, but her outburst was beyond what Jen had expected.

Grunting in unwilling agreement Cassandra replied, "I know, but he lied to me. He spun a tale and I believed him!" She hit her gloved fist down on the windowsill. "I am supposed to be able to tell when I am being lied to, it was part of my training."

It seemed that part of Cassandra's anger was aimed inwardly at herself. That made more sense with the level of frustration that Jen had witnessed.

"I can understand that. Also, I have to own up to the fact that I met with Hawke earlier and said nothing. I was going to raise it at tomorrows war council." Jen looked at Cassandra, gauging her reaction.

Rubbing her eyes for a moment, the Seeker's shoulders slumped. "I know. I followed you as I thought it odd that you were going off to meet Varric when you had just been talking to him."

"I see," Jen said flatly. She moved to lean against the wall, crossing her arms. "I understand that Varric lied to everyone, but I think he did it with good reason. You know now that I was involved with the start of the uprising in Kirkwall. The mess there after the explosions was something I hope to never see again. And after talking to Hawke, it does haunt her. Like all good people she questions herself again and again wondering whether it was something she did or said that pushed it over the edge."

Absentmindedly Jen pushed her black hair out of her eyes, tucking it behind her ear.

"It takes a while for someone to come to terms with that. She was Kirkwall's Champion, so it's her fault in her eyes. I think Hawke was broken after that and needed time to heal. That, I think, is why Varric lied to you. Not because he didn't think she could do it, but because he feared she would take it on anyway and she wasn't fit to do so."

"You speak from experience," Cassandra said, a curious expression on her face.

"You know that to be true," Jen laughed softly.

A silence fell between them, but it wasn't charged with anger and annoyance anymore. Eventually Cassandra broke it.

"We were so desperate after Kirkwall. We needed someone to help quash the Mage Templar rebellion. I had hoped that Alessia Cousland would be found, then turned to Hawke when it seemed she had vanished, but to no luck." Cassandra sighed. "If I had just explained better how much we needed Hawke, maybe he would have let me speak with her. But I failed."

"The Divine's death hit you hard?" Jen asked carefully.

"Yes," the Seeker whispered. "She was a dear friend, who helped me to become fairer and less rash person." Cassandra snorted at the thought, until she glanced at Jen and her expression changed.

"But I think now, that the Maker has delivered to us exactly what we needed. We just didn't expect it to be so late, or to be you," she murmured.

"Well that makes two of us," quipped Jen jokingly.

"I mean it," Cassandra whispered. "You have helped give people hope again."

"You know I don't believe in the Maker Cassandra," Jen chided gently.

The Seeker laughed, "I am aware, but it doesn't mean I should not."

"Have you finalised your plans for us to go and find your Order?" asked Jen, deciding to change the subject.

"Yes, we will travel to Caer Oswin at first light tomorrow."

"Excellent, who have you decided will come with us?"

"I asked Blackwall, Dorian and Vivienne."

Jen raised her eyebrows. They would not be who she would have chosen, other than Dorian. However it would give her the chance to ask Blackwall a bit more about himself and the same with Vivenne. The problem there was that she didn't find Vivienne particularly pleasant and did not appreciate the way the woman talked down to her. Although, perhaps over time they would soften towards each other? She could hope at least.

"Okay then, I am going to catch up with Iron Bull and the Chargers. We are planning on grabbing something to eat if you would like to join us?"

"No, thank you. I appreciate the offer but I don't think I will be good company this evening."

"Well if you change your mind..." Jen added.

"Thank you, but no thank you Jennifer. I will see you in the morning."

Jen squeezed the Seeker's shoulder tightly for a moment before heading back downstairs in the search of some dinner.


	31. Chapter 31

Cassandra was in better spirits the next day, it seemed that her outburst had allowed her to process a few things that had been getting to her for some time. The small group had mounted their horses quickly, barely speaking before setting off at a gallop through the gates and over the bridge, out of Skyhold.

Relishing feeling free, the wind whipping through her hair once again, Jen was also in a better mood. It felt good to do something and the weather was, although cold, considerably brighter than it had been of late. The sky was a bright blue, with only a few wisps of cloud in the distance and she enjoyed the views from the hills as they made their way up them, surveying the yellow green landscape around them, spring was coming and the plants were starting to grow back after the oppressive winter.

"Warden Blackwall?" she asked the man who was riding next to her.

"Yes Inquisitor?"

"Your accent is from the Free Marches isn't it?

"Aye Ma'am it is, I grew up near Markham," he responded guardedly, keeping his eyes on the road ahead, his hands gripping the reins more tightly.

"I thought so, it's nice to have another Freemarcher around," she grinned at him widely, which seemed to embarrass him. The Warden's face turned a light pink above his groomed moustache and beard.

"I was wondering, did you know anything about the Grey Wardens who were in Kirkwall around the time the mage rebellion broke out?" asked Jen, curiously watching the man.

"No, I have been on my own for many years, only coming in contact with other Wardens when my path crossed with theirs," he answered quickly, still looking uncomfortable.

"That's a shame," she said earnestly. "I learned recently that they may have been involved with Corypheus."

"Ridiculous!" he responded angrily. "The Wardens would not have anything to do with a darkspawn magister, other than to try and destroy him."

He acted as though his own idea of the Wardens had been attacked and maybe it had been, but she had noticed that he used 'The Wardens' not 'we' which is what she would have expected.

"I'm sorry, but I did hear it from a trustworthy source," she responded cautiously, watching Blackwall frown at what she had said.

"Jennifer, we will be there soon!" shouted the Seeker at the head of their party.

Sure enough, ahead of them stood the home of Bann Loren. It was reasonable sized keep, with two square towers looming over from each side of its gate. Squinting against the afternoon sun, she made out the flagpoles set on top of each tower. Both of them were bare.

Muttering a hasty apology to Blackwall, she kicked her horse on to catch up with Cassandra as quickly as she could.

"Cassandra, there are no banners flying from Caer Oswin," she said feeling wary of the castle now.

"I know," she replied, bringing her horse to a stop and held her gloved hand up over her eyes to shield them from the sun, as she inspected the ramparts. "I fear that something is wrong here."

Jen glanced back at Dorian, Vivienne and Blackwall who were all looking grim.

"Everyone needs to be on their guard now," she said. "Who knows what is waiting for us in there."

"Cassandra my dear, is this wise?" asked Vivienne.

"I need to know what has happened to the Seekers, if you wish to stay behind, that is fine with me," replied Cassandra brusquely.

"That's not what I meant," Vivienne said tartly. "I am here to support you as I promised you yesterday."

"Good," Cassandra stated.

They entered through the gate easily enough, it appeared that no one was manning the battlements and the courtyard beyond was deserted.

"I don't like this," Jen muttered, pulling out her daggers, her eyes raking over every detail of the courtyard, scoping out all of the doors and possible hiding places. There was a rustling at the very edge of her hearing range but she was unable to discern exactly what was making the sound. All that she could tell was that it was coming from a door to their left. Every member of their party was alert, weapons raised as she approached the door and pressed her ear to it. The rustling was louder in the passage beyond it and grimly she realised what it was.

"There is an ambush down there, at least seven," she paused to listen, "no, maybe eight men. I can hear their chainmail clinking as they shift their weight, waiting for us."

"How can you possibly know that?" questioned Vivienne with a sharp whisper. She held her ornately carved staff in her perfectly manicured hands with practiced ease.

"I have my talents, as do you I'm sure," Jen replied not bothering to disguise the irritation she was feeling at such an unnecessarily timed question. Did the mage not realise that the unknown force may have heard her? Behind Vivienne, Dorian rolled his eyes making Jen all the more fond of him.

Motioning to Cassandra and Blackwall to take point, Jen fell in behind them, with the two mages at the rear. Hovering near the door Cassandra waited for the signal, and when Jen nodded she kicked her way through the door with a shout of anger, Blackwall close behind.

Jen had been correct. There were eight soldiers lying in wait, but what she hadn't know was that they were Red Templars. Cassandra and Blackwall managed to take the first Red Templar down quickly, a smart blow to the kneecap from Blackwall took his legs from under him and as he let out a inhuman shriek Cassandra parted his head from his body, sharply cutting of the scream. But in the time they had taken to do that the others had become aware of them. The corridor was narrow, making it difficult for them to fight effectively and Jen struggled to slip through to help them. Instead they relied on the mages to cause havoc with Vivienne indeed making her talents known. Using her ice magic, she froze large groups of the Red Templars in place, while Dorian used his necromancy powers to blind them. It was a brutal combination that created the space they needed, allowing Jen and her companions to get close to their frozen enemies and Jen could force her daggers deeply into the weak points of their armour at the neck and armpit.

Eventually, all eight were dead at their feet, Jen and her companions panting heavily at their exertions and covered in gore. As Jen made to wipe her daggers clean, a tapestry hanging at the end of the corridor caught her eye.

"Cassandra, have you ever seen this?"

It was an elegant piece of work, an intricate landscape with rolling hills and in the centre a beautifully embroidered copy of Caer Oswin. It was aged, the left hand side of it in particular was faded, the colours less vibrant than the other half. But it wasn't the needlework which had caught her eye, a sentence had been smeared in what looked blood across it, spoiling the work of the tapestries creator.

"Thedas must be cleansed with fire and reborn as a paradise," Jen read aloud. "What does that mean?"

She looked to Cassandra who had joined her and whose mouth had become a thin line of displeasure.

"The Order of Fiery Promise," she growled with disgust and reached out tearing the tapestry down in a sudden movement.

"My dear, you can't do that!" Vivienne looked highly offended at a work of art being thrown to the floor.

Cassandra closed her eyes for a moment, clearly trying to rein in her anger.

"It was soiled," retorted Cassandra, her Nevarran accent becoming thicker as it often did when she became more angry.

"But what did it mean?" Jen reiterated impatiently, cutting in to prevent a potential squabble.

"The Order of the Fiery Promise have been a thorn in the side of the Seekers of Truth as long as the Order has existed. They claim to be the first Seekers and took a truer path than ours. We have wiped them out several times over the centuries, but they always somehow come back." Cassandra kicked the tapestry with the toe of her boot, producing another disgruntled noise from Vivienne, which was ignored.

"What could their part be in all of this?" asked Jen quietly.

"I do not know, but I am anxious to press on now." Gritting her teeth, Cassandra raised her sword and shield, heading for the door.

Ahead they encountered their first group of the Order of Fiery Promise, who were dressed like Seekers, but without the symbol of an eye emblazoned over a sun on their breastplates. Luckily they had been unable to help themselves but call out zealous rubbish to Cassandra, accusing her of being a pale imitation of what a Seeker could be, which made sure that Jen and her companions knew they were the enemy. Five of them were stationed at the end of a large cavernous room with lines of stone pillars supporting the high ceiling. A further group of Red Templars supported them and began to rush ahead towards Jen and her companions.

"Stay back!" shouted the Seeker, whirling around to Vivienne and Dorian.

"Stay at the edge of this room and do not follow me forward. They may have abilities that Seekers have."

Cassandra charged forward with Jen and Blackwall struggling to keep up with the Seeker, then when she reached the centre of the room she stopped suddenly surprising her companions and fell to her knees. The Seeker hadn't been hit by anything, but the Templars were still coming. Jen pulled out her throwing knives and hit several of the Templars in quick succession, but all she succeeded in doing was to slow them.

Glancing back at Cassandra Jen was met by an extraordinary sight. On her knees as though in prayer was Cassandra reciting the chant of light furiously and a white light was radiating from her that was getting brighter and brighter. Screams of agony began to erupt from the Red Templars who began to stagger, pulling at their helmets and armour. Their shrieks became inhuman, one managed to pull off his helmet and stagger closer to them. His nose was dripping with blood, his face bright red and his eyes were blood shot. As Jen watched horrified, he fell to his knees and blood began seeping from his ears and eyes. The screaming stopped and the Templars were still, their bodies twitching.

"Take them out now!" shouted Cassandra. She was dripping with sweat, and was struggling to get yo her feet, but she still managed to point at the five Fiery Promise zealots who appeared to be stunned by what the Seeker had just done.

Not needing to be told twice, Jen loosed two throwing knives at once, which found their marks in the necks of two of the enemies. Sprinting to the remaining three, she ducked under a wild slash of a sword, getting close enough to her target that she could sweep her legs out from under her with a kick. There was a wild snarl from her right as she went to kill the woman lying on the floor and a sword came within an inch of her face.

Blackwall's sword had blocked a killing blow from another of their foes, which Jen had not noticed, being intent on finishing off the woman on the floor. With a grunt, he held his sword there another moment, sweat dripping down his face and then twisted and brought the shield in his left hand up hard into the soldier's face. This gave Jen enough space to roll forward and slit the woman's throat.

Blackwall had also dispatched his adversary, so the both turned to the final soldier whose eyes were wide.

"We will remake Thedas, it must burn!" he yelled at them, charging at Blackwall who parried strongly forcing him backwards into Jen. She jumped up behind him reaching around and slit his throat. The man's blood spilled like a river from him, his hands scrabbled at his neck as he gurgled pitifully. Jen however only viewed him with disdain and kicked him squarely in the chest, his head making a sickening sound as it hit the flagstones.

As was her habit, she wiped her daggers clean on the dead soldiers clothes and as she crouched she looked up at Blackwall who was adjusting the leather straps on the back of his shield.

"Blackwall?"

He met her gaze slowly, and as Jen took in his expression she realised that there was something in his countenance that she recognised. Only she couldn't quite work out what it was.

"Yes, My Lady?" he responded politely and his expression became guarded again.

"Thank you for having my back," she said. "And please could you just call me by my name? I've managed to get Cassandra to do it and I hoped that would be the most difficult."

Blackwell laughed. It was a deep musical baritone that made him look years younger.

His grey eyes were bright as he smiled and replied, "I will try my best Jen."

Straightening up, Jen paused unable to take her eyes off him. Something about him had captured her attention where before she had easily dismissed him. It was as though there was a puzzle before her that she knew she could solve, but although she had a vague memory of the pieces required to complete the picture, a few were missing from the box.

Realising that she had been staring, she jerked around remembering what Cassandra had just done. She strode towards the Seeker who was staggering a little and put her arm around her waist, supporting her.

"Thank you," murmured the Seeker weakly. Her face shined with perspiration after the exertion she had just put herself through.

"What was that Cassandra?!" exclaimed Dorian, who along with Vivienne had decided that it was now safe to approach. He moved around to Cassandra's other side and helped to support the Seeker too.

"That— that was one of my abilities," Cassandra replied faintly.

"Jennifer, help me," Dorian said quickly, taking in the grey pallor of Cassandra's face and not liking what he saw.

Carefully they lowered the Seeker to the ground at the bottom of a set of stone steps and propped her up against it. Dorian put one of his hands on Cassandra's forehead despite her feeble attempts to swat his hand away.

"My dear, you are clammy as anything!" he exclaimed.

"It's nothing Pavus, using that particular ability just takes it out of me," Cassandra dismissed. "I will be fine in a moment."

"What was it that you did?" asked Jen, who crouched down beside her.

"I have the ability to set the lyrium in Templars or mages blood aflame," she muttered.

"Which is why you told myself and Dorian to stay back," Vivienne interjected, frowning at the Seeker.

"Yes, it is not an ability that discriminates between friend and foe. I wouldn't wish to hurt either of you."

"And that's why I haven't seen you use it before," Jen said. She took the potion that Dorian had just retrieved from his pack and passed it to Cassandra who reluctantly accepted it, drinking deeply.

"Well that and the fatigue it causes yes, but I was concerned with how much those members of the Order of the Fiery Promise would know. I didn't want either of you exposed to anything like that, and using it myself was the fastest way I could think of dispatching the Templars to put us on a more even footing," Cassandra finished, speaking more strongly than before.

"You are full of surprises Seeker," Jen said as she pulled her to her feet. The potions effects seemed to have been instantaneous. Cassandra's cheeks already looked a healthier colour.

Gesturing to Blackwall to take point, he opened the door that he had been guarding and moved through with his shield raised protectively. Jen followed next, but could see very little. The hallway was pitch black.

"Allow me," said Dorian. He smacked his staff smartly against the stone floor and several fireballs were conjured from it, which flew across the hallway, hitting the torches along the wall and lighting them.

It was a bigger space than Jen had initially thought, with large murals painted in vivid colours set along the walls. Moving towards the grand staircase at the end, Jen realised that she recognised the likeness of the subject in the painting set behind a large thrown-like chair.

"Cassandra, that's—"

"Yes that is me," she replied sternly intimating that she did not wish to talk about it and stalked off to the staircase without another word. Jen took a moment to take in the mural of Cassandra, a sword in one hand a shield in the other and a ferocious expression on her face. It was stylised, but definitely captured Cassandra's likeness.

"It's very good isn't it," Dorian whispered mischievously as he passed her by.

"Jennifer!" A frantic cry came from the top of the staircase and Jen immediately sprinted to the top of the stairs, Blackwall and Dorian close behind.

Cassandra and Vivienne were at the top, both crouched next to a young man who slumped against the wall, dressed in a Seeker's uniform.

"No, no, no!" muttered Cassandra frantically shaking the young man. He did not look well at all. His handsome face was paper white and sickly looking with his eyes closed. Black veins pulsed beneath his pale skin, having worked their way up his neck and across his face. Slowly he began to stir and his eyelids flickered.

"Daniel?" gasped Cassandra, taking his hand as he awoke.

"Cassandra? What are you doing here?" he asked groggily.

"I was looking for our Order, where is everyone?"

"Everyone here has gone," he winced and moved his left hand to his stomach grasping it tightly. "Lord Seeker Lucius came with some Templars and that's when things started to change. At first he isolated himself from us and we didn't know what to make of it. Then after a week or two he began. One by one he ordered us to go to him, speaking of promotions, or quests or just causes. Each time this happened, the Seeker vanished. Eventually it came to my turn. I was held down by the Order of Fiery Promise— there were Templars helping them who glowed red and they— they—" his voice broke and he clutched even more tightly at his stomach.

"What did they do to you Daniel?" Cassandra asked in a deadly tone and she gripped his hand even more tightly.

"They put a demon inside me," he gasped, his eyes wide and he grasped tightly again at his stomach wincing.

A silence fell and Jen's heart sank. She had never heard of such a thing, but Cassandra must have because she closed her eyes slowly, her face twisting in anguish.

"Why would they do such a thing?" eventually Cassandra said, each word was measured and her breathing was tightly controlled, but Jen noticed how her hand shook as she gently placed it on Daniel's cheek.

"They knew they couldn't control us with red lyrium like the templars, so they thought that they would experiment before killing us," he grunted bitterly.

"You should have come with me and joined the Inquisition. You didn't support the mage-templar war anymore than I did," Cassandra whispered.

Daniel laughed sadly. "You know me, I couldn't help but chase that promotion." His breathing became ragged and what little colour was present in his cheeks faded as his body spasmed.

With what looked like a massive effort for him, he reached out and took Cassandra's hand.

"Cassandra, please," he implored her, his eyes wide with fear.

An understanding passed between them and Cassandra stood stiffly, rearing back away from him in horror. Putting two and two together, Jen grabbed the Seekers forearm and held her there.

"I can do this if you—" she barely got the mumbled words out before Cassandra interrupted her.

"I need to do this. He is my apprentice." Their eyes met and Jen saw the agony present in Cassandra's, but also a fierce determination. Jen nodded and let go of her arm.


	32. Chapter 32

"Everyone else with me," Jen ordered, looking around at the stricken faces of the rest of her team. Dorian looked as though he wished to stay, but Jen shook her head at him and gestured to him not to argue. To his credit Blackwall took the lead, shepherding Madame de Fer away from the two Seekers. Bringing up the rear, Jen glanced back to see Cassandra placing a kiss on Daniel's forehead with a tenderness she had rarely seen her exhibit.

They continued across the stone landing to the door at the end and passed through with weapons drawn. The door had lead to a grassy lawn outside with a well trodden path leading through it, up the hill to another tower. In the time they had been inside the castle clouds had rolled in, blocking the sunlight and casting everything in a dull light which sucked the colour out of everything. Jen leaned against the stone wall, resting the back of her head against the cool limestone and closed her eyes in an attempt to banish the images her mind was conjuring of a broken and disfigured Fiona begging for her life to be ended in that alternative future. She remembered how it felt as she had pushed her dagger into her. It made her feel conflicted as a small, dark part of herself had liked taking that life, but another was screaming at her that it was wrong to be the weapon again, to enjoy it.

"Are you quite alright my Dear?" asked Vivienne, who was looking uncharacteristically concerned for Jen when she opened her eyes. Normally Madame de Fer treated her with a cold distain – she had had realised early on that Jen did not support the notion of reinstating the Circles.

"I am fine, thank you," Jen responded in surprise and stood up a little straighter. "I am just concerned for Cassandra."

Madam de Fer regarded her critically, then appeared to have seen all she wished because she nodded and turned away.

When Cassandra finally returned her eyes were red, but she appeared to have passed that as she seethed with anger. Jen moved towards her uncertainly, but Cassandra unsheathed her sword causing Jen and the others to be forced away from her.

"Lord-Seeker Lucius is still here," she spat with fury. "And I wish to take his head!"

She looked around at them all with a fierce anger that was terrible to behold. "If any of you wish to help, that is appreciated, but regardless I am going to kill him. Now."

They all marched up the hill behind the Seeker, determined to find retribution for Cassandra.

"Lucius!" Cassandra roared as they approached the tower. "Where are you!?"

The door of the tower swung open with a bang and a dry cackle reached their ears. Lucius stalked through the door from the tower, flanked by two large Red Templars. His long black hair was lank and greasy and stubble was growing on his chin. He looked exhausted, but a resilience remained in him.

"I told you before of my disgust at the false prophet you have been parading throughout Thedas," he sneered as his eyes rested on Jen. Immediately she felt a rage building in her chest as she remembered their last encounter. She had not forgotten the promise she had made to herself at that juncture. Glancing at Cassandra however, she could little imagine how she must be feeling.

"What of you, Lord Seeker?" Cassandra questioned, a dangerous edge to her Nevarran accent. "You will be remembered as the Lord Seeker who destroyed the very Order you were elected to lead and protect. You will be remembered as a murderer."

"There is so much you do not understand," Lucius replied as he reached inside his cloak and retrieved a thick leather bound tome that was embossed on the front with the eye of the Seekers.

"Do you know what this is?" he asked mockingly.

"I do not care," Cassandra replied bluntly.

"Oh you will. It is the true knowledge of the Seekers of Truth, passed down from Lord Seeker to Lord Seeker across the generations. Through this, I learned that our Order has long been broken and does not deserve to continue."

"So you decided to kill them?" Cassandra howled in anguish.

"We are wrong. Puppets ourselves in another way to the lyrium leash that keeps the Templars to heel by the Chantry, but puppets all the same. Our Order is not what it should be and Corypheus is the only one who can save us from ourselves." He looked desperate, but assured in his new way of thinking. Jen could tell that he was trying to convince himself as well as Cassandra that he had done the right thing.

"You sided with a darkspawn magister over your own kin?" Cassandra seemed hardly able to believe her ears and her hand settled on the hilt of her sword.

Lucius had followed her hand and smiled darkly.

"Kill me if you must, but you will not defeat him."

"He is a sycophant Cassandra," Jen whispered to the Nevarran. "Give me the word and I will permanently wipe that smile off his face."

"No," Cassandra whispered back firmly. She pulled her sword from its sheath and fell into an attacking stance "He is mine!" she roared and charged straight at Lucius whose eyes were wide as he just managed to free his own sword in time to block Cassandra.

"Shit," Jen muttered as she pulled her daggers free and ran to meet one of the red Templars while Blackwall took the other. Dorian was supporting her, and he threw a fireball at the red templar which on any other foe would have boiled it in its suit of armour. But the Red Templars were so devolved from the people they had once been, that it seemed they were no longer injured by fire.

Remembering her previous tactics, Jen ran and slid low at the Templar, slicing at the back of the knee joints, taking the right leg away from him. He fell to one knee with a roar, but continued to throw himself furiously in her direction like a wild dog. She couldn't see his face beneath the helm he wore, but his eyes were bloodshot and wide with madness.

Dancing away, Jen ducked just in time to avoid a mace to the neck from the second Templar who had managed to throw Blackwall to the ground. The Grey Warden was dazedly trying to get back into the fight, but was clearly struggling.

"Vivienne!" Jen shouted to her who was trying to help Cassandra by casting a shield around the Seeker. "Freeze one of these bastards would you!"

Looking faintly amused, a smirk lingering on her haughty features, Madame de Fer obliged and froze one of the Templars still immediately. Knowing that had taken Vivienne out of the fight for a moment while she replenished her mana with a potion, Jen acted quickly reaching up to the frozen Templar and buried her two daggers in his neck.

The remaining Templar was already weakened by Jen's attack on his leg, so he struggled to remain upright. This allowed a recovered Blackwall to smash him down with his shield before putting his sword clean through the Templar. Even then the crazed Templar pulled himself towards Blackwall by the Grey Wardens own sword, until Dorian used a blast of electricity to knock him down for good. There the body continued to twitch and the acrid odour of burned flesh emanated from it.

"Argh!" Cassandra shouted out in pain causing Jen to focus on the duel between the two Seekers. It looked like Lucius had got a solid hit in on Cassandra's thigh, she could see the blood soaking through her breeches slowly. Luckily it appeared that he hadn't nicked the artery, but Cassandra was limping now as she held up her shield against a barrage of blows that Lucius landed upon it.

Entering the fight Jen crossed her two daggers to parry the Lord Seeker's sword away from her. His breathing was ragged and Jen sensed that he was tiring. Using the understanding that they had developed over the last few months, Jen acted as a guard for Cassandra's injured side, giving the Seeker the freedom to attack as she would have done before. Whenever Cassandra went in for a blow, Jen would be ready to protect against a counter.

"You are so ignorant of the truth!" shouted Lucius in frustration as he tried to land another hit on Cassandra, but was beaten back by a kick to his gut from Jen.

"I don't see how any truth could justify what you have done!" yelled Cassandra. "You have sold out to the Order of Fiery Promise."

"We are abominations! They are right!" he screamed at her, leaving his left side open in his fury.

Seeing this, Cassandra lunged and her sweeping strike skewered the Lord Seeker between his ribs. His mouth still open, he glanced down in disbelief watching as Cassandra pulled the blade out, twisting it wickedly as she did. He fell to his knees, his left hand clamped futilely over the wound. His right was reaching into his surcoat, scrabbling for something, as his breathing became more and more ragged. Mouth moving wordlessly, he seemed to be trying to speak, but all that came out was a death rattle caused by the lung that must have been punctured. His eyes were wide with fear as the flickered between Jen and Cassandra.

Regarding him for a moment with the utmost contempt, Cassandra stepped forward and took off his head. It fell to the floor with a wet thump, and his body followed keeling over as blood flowed in a stream from his neck. Jen glanced at Cassandra who was leaning on her sword panting, an expression of agony on her scarred face, but instead of going to her she kicked Lucius's body over so it was lying on its back. Part of it was already stained from white to red. Crouching down she opened his surcoat and reached for whatever it was that he had been trying to grasp, and felt a leather bound book there. She took it out and examined it. Embossed upon the ancient looking leather cover of the thick tome was the symbol of the Seekers of Truth.

"Cassandra?" she said tentatively. "I think this may give you answers. If not now I think it is important to know why all of this has happened."

She held out the book to the Seeker who took it wordlessly.


	33. Chapter 33

She had been completely wiped out after the trip to Caer Oswin, both physically and emotionally. Having returned to Skyhold, she was told that the castle had been sufficiently renovated and a room had been made available for her. An Inquisition soldier had been waiting to show her to it at Josephine's request. According to the soldier, her belongings had already been transferred from the corner of the store room she had spent a her first few nights in Skyhold to her new quarters. As she followed the soldier up several flights of stairs, she lamented that they could have found something closer to the ground floor. It was a lot of stairs when her body was so exhausted.

Eventually, they reached the door and Jen dismissed the soldier with a nod and a word of thanks. She lifted her hand to turn the large metal door knob, and pushed open the door slowly.

Ahead of her were a few more stairs, but as she climbed them and emerged into her new room she couldn't help but gasp. The room was decorated lavishly with Inquisition heraldry decorating heavy drapes and curtains that hung from the walls. A large solid oak four poster bed stood in the middle of the room, along with large wardrobes and a dressing table constructed with the same oak. There were also several thick red rugs placed around the room, one under the bed, another in front of the fire which was crackling merrily in the large mantelpiece. But the thing that had really taken her breath away was the stunning view of the mountains that was opposite from where she stood, framed by large glass doors which opened on to a balcony.

A door to the left of the room caught her eye, and she opened it revealing a bathroom, with a large ceramic sink and a copper bath set in the middle. There were taps set above the bath which she turned experimentally. A loud banging noise came from below her, along with a gurgle and then to her disbelief water flowed from the tap. Steaming, hot water. Unable to help it, she let out a laugh and began to remove her weapons belts, shrugging out of them before stripping her clothes off, letting them fall to the floor in a heap. When the water was at the right level she climbed in with a sigh and allowed her thoughts to drift away.

"Cousin?"

Jen awoke in a daze, lying on top of the covers on her new bed. She supposed that she had been so tired she had collapsed on to the bed and fell asleep instantly.

A knock came at the door now. "Jennifer, are you there?"

She raised her head. Looking out of the window she saw it was already night time, she had been asleep all day.

"I'm here," she mumbled as she sat up and noticed she was naked. "Give me a minute," she said more loudly, her gaze focusing on the wardrobes.

Inside were more clothes than she had ever owned in her life. Avoiding the lavish ballgowns, she picked out a simple set of breeches, a blue long sleeved top and found some underclothes in a draw. Quickly she dressed and shouted over for her visitor to come in.

Dorian entered, whistling as he took in her new room.

"Somebody is doing well for themselves," he said raising an eyebrow at her.

"I didn't ask for this," Jen retorted defensively.

"I know," he said kindly. "This has our dear Ambassador written all over it. So, Cousin, your presence has been requested at the Herald's Rest and I am afraid it is mandatory."

"The Herald's Rest?" Jen repeated blankly. "Oh no, that's not what they decided to call the tavern is it?"

"It is indeed," Dorian laughed.

Groaning, Jen picked up on something else Dorian had said.

"Why are you calling me Cousin, Dorian?"

"Oh well bloodlines are quite a serious business in Tevinter, we are all made to remember them. Anyway, when I heard your family name it seemed familiar to me, and after going through all the mnemonics I had learned to remember all the damn names, I realised that there was indeed a Trevelyan."

"That's a bit weird," she examined Dorian's tanned face and chiselled jaw in search of a resemblance.

"Ha," Dorian barked. "It was several centuries ago, don't worry we could still get together yet." He winked at her, and Jen slapped his arm playfully.

"Now come on Cousin," he said offering his arm to her which she took with a smile. "Lets go and have some fun."

They took comfortable seats near the fire in the Herald's Rest after having a very short exchange with the new barman, a dwarf whom it seemed did not like small talk. Jen sipped her mead thoughtfully and Dorian languished backwards in his chair with a small sigh of contentment as he sipped his wine.

"There is something I have been wondering for a while, but if it isn't my place to pry tell me," Dorian started carefully.

"What is it?" Jen responded warily.

"The night of the attack in Haven, I interrupted you and the Commander didn't I?"

"You interrupted our discussion, yes," Jen said guardedly causing Dorian to raise an eyebrow.

"I didn't think about it at the time, only when he found you after the attack. When he went back with you to your tent and then when you parted you didn't speak to each other for days. I know whatever was said upset you, Leliana told me he had been there when I came back to check on you. You were asleep then."

Folding her arms Jen asked, "And you mention this now, why?"

He leaned forwards, his eyes boring into hers. "Were you and the Commander together?"

Jen couldn't help it, her jaw dropped open in shock. Trying to look at it from Dorian's perspective she could see maybe how those events could be put together to tell that story, but at the same time, her and the Commander? Not a chance.

"I'm afraid to say it Dorian, but you have got that completely wrong," she said with a laugh.

"Why? Aren't you into men?" he asked with interest.

"I like men fine thank you," she felt a slight blush creeping over her cheeks. "I like people, I've never thought to make a distinction. But no, I did not have an affair with Cullen or whatever you were thinking."

Dorian took a long sip of his wine, she could see his mind working, trying to make sense of everything he thought he had seen to puzzle out what exactly had happened.

"You want to know don't you," she asked with a weak smile.

"Well I can hardly deny my dear Cousin that my curiosity has been piqued," he replied after a moment.

"Here you are."

One of the serving girls had brought over the chicken stew that Jen had ordered at the bar.

"Thank you," Jen replied immediately, taking the stew and attempted to eat it as fast as possible without showing how ridiculously hungry she was.

Once the girl had retreated, Jen glanced up at Dorian who was watching her intently.

"We were arguing because of my past," she said before taking a mouthful of stew. "I knew Cullen, briefly."

"When?"

"Kirkwall, the start of the Mage-Templar war."

"I don't know much about that time," Dorian confessed.

"Dorian, if I tell you what I told Cullen, I fear you could end up hating me," she said quietly. "I have not been a good person."

"Cullen forgave you I assume?" Dorian asked gently.

"It looks like he has, somehow," she replied.

"Then, if you want to tell me, I won't judge you for it," he said honestly.

It shocked Jen how much easier it was getting for her to confide in people that she trusted, and to her surprise the strength that doing so seemed to lend her. So she explained to Dorian the nature of her old work, the fact that her actions had catalysed the fall of Kirkwall. About Anders and the gold he offered her.

"But what has that to do with Cullen?" Dorian asked with a frown. Jen was surprised at how well he had taken the fact that she was an assassin.

"He was a Knight-Captain at Kirkwall and we had a mutual acquaintance, Roderick, who was his protégé and my lover."

"Ah."

"I loved him, but through my actions he got killed, Anders blew up the Chantry and he was killed in the fallout," her voice cracked. "Cullen saw me when I found him and thought I had killed him, my face was covered so he didn't know who I was," she murmured.

"That's why I always ignored him, why I barely spoke directly to the Commander. I associated him with that mess— with Roderick. The memories I have of that time, that I had tried to push away came to the surface so easily in his presence, like a trigger. And Cullen that night had decided he wanted to know why I seemed to ignore him," she finished. Closing her eyes for a moment, she took a few deep breaths to bring her emotions under control.

"I'm sorry for your loss," Dorian said quietly, taking Jen's hand in his. And in that moment, Jen realised that was the first time anyone had ever told her they were sorry for Roderick's death, because she had never let anyone know to give them a chance. Dorian had acknowledged Jen's lover and that his death would have affected her. Like they had been together properly, like a couple.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"Don't worry about it Jennifer, I think what you have been through has made you who you are. And I like that woman very much. Now then, let us stop moping and have the fun that I promised you, I think I just saw Varric come in!"


	34. Chapter 34

Dorian called him over.

"Evening Sparkler," Varric said when he made his way towards them, tankard in hand. "Jen," he added nodding at her.

Jen raised her eyebrows, "Since when do you use my name Varric?"

"Since I think you need a new nickname, I'm not sure Kid fits anymore. I feel like you have outgrown it," he shot her a grin as he sat down at their table.

"Yes!" replied Jen enthusiastically.

"Ooh can we come up with suggestions?" Dorian interjected with a dangerous glint in his eyes.

"Of course not, Varric can figure it out on his own can't you Varric," Jen said pleadingly to the dwarf, seeking to cut that idea off before it took hold.

"It's true," Varric replied theatrically. "But I'd keep your suggestions in mind Sparkler," he added brightly.

"Maker help me," Jen grumbled.

"Curly!" Varric shouted, looking towards the door.

Turning her head quickly, Jen saw the Commander dressed in his armour and fur coat as usual, notice them and make his way over.

"Good evening," he said warmly smiling at them all. Jen thought he still looked worn and tired despite the fact that they had all become more settled in Skyhold in recent weeks. Maybe it was simply the way he threw himself into his work, he rarely seemed to stop.

"Curly, would you like to join us in a game of Wicked Grace?" Varric asked, having seemingly produced a deck of cards from nowhere.

Involuntarily the Commander glanced at Jen catching her eye, and she nodded imperceptibly. It was kind of him to take into account her feelings, but she wanted things to be more normal between them. The air had been cleared and Cullen had supported her since, but it seemed he was still not fully comfortable.

"I will join you, although I have to warn you, I'm not very good."

"Don't worry, the stakes won't be very high, will they Varric," Jen said warningly.

"I suppose not," responded Varric dejectedly. "Spoil sport," he added under his breath, causing Dorian to chuckle.

"Anyway," Cullen cut in regarding them all with amusement. "Would any of you like a refill when I go to the bar?"

There was a chorus of assent, and Varric got up to assist Cullen.

"He is a good looking man, Cullen," Dorian murmured absentmindedly as he twirled the end of his moustache.

"I suppose he is," replied Jen, looking over at the Commander laughing at the bar with Varric. He was tall and broad at the shoulders, with a chiselled jaw and his short blonde curls were just about tamed. She turned her attention back to Dorian who was studying Cullen intently, a shrewd expression on his face.

"You have a soft spot for our Commander?" Jen asked, her eyes narrowing.

Dorian laughed quietly. "Well yes dear Cousin, he is very attractive. We have been playing chess together you know?"

This unsettled Jen a little, she hadn't noticed the Commander and Dorian spending time together. Although she didn't claim to be omniscient, she thrived off noticing little things between people. But the distractions of leading the Inquisition seemed to be making her miss details as she tackled larger problems.

"And how is it going?" she asked curiously.

"Not well, we are tied on games thus far, but I assume that isn't what you were asking about?" he asked cheekily.

"I'm interested in the gossip, as you well know," Jen folded her arms.

"Well, suffice to say that sadly I don't think I am the Commander's type," he divulged with a sigh.

Feeling relived that she was now in the loop on their developing friendship, Jen replied, "I'm sorry that is the case."

Looking as though he was about to speak, Dorian abruptly closed his mouth, but studied Jen intensely as though searching for something in her expression.

Cullen and Varric returned from the bar then, both holding several tankards and plonked them down noisily on the table. It soon transpired that Cullen had been telling the truth about his ability to play Wicked Grace. Whenever he tried to bluff, he failed miserably and consequently was picked apart for it. It was endearing to see the Commander flustered as he struggled to play, he was normally so capable that to see a small flaw made him seem more human to her. His association with Roderick had perhaps caused her to place the former Templar on a pedestal, despite the fact that Roderick himself had told her of Cullen's shortcomings. Regardless, Jen was very glad to have insisted on a limit for bets, it would have got out of hand in no time.

As the game came to a close, she found herself withdrawing from the group slightly and observing the three men. They were all laughing and joking, poking fun at each other and she couldn't help but smile as she watched them. It was nice to see, but she felt guilty that she was sat enjoying herself while Cassandra was coming to terms with her Daniel's death at her hand and the disintegration of her Order.

The Seeker had been quiet for the entire journey home and Jen had wanted to be there for her but hadn't known how. Leliana and Josephine had been waiting for them on the steps to the keep, but after seeing the thunderous expression on Cassandra's face, they had advised Jen not to follow the Seeker. Respecting the fact that Leliana knew Cassandra very well, she had heeded that advice for now.

Shaking herself, she picked up her tankard and downed the remaining mead, which caused Varric to whoop with excitement.

"I think it is time for another round," Jen said as she wiped her mouth on the back of her hand and looked to Varric expectantly, who had come out on top in the game. Cullen caught her eye and laughed with her at Varric's indignant expression.

"But they are my winnings!"

"That might be true, but not all of it was won by honest means was it?" Jen clarified cheekily. She had noticed that several cards had disappeared and reappeared at convenient times from Varric's sleeve during the game.

"Fine!" he held his hands up and headed to the bar.

"How did you know he was cheating?" Dorian asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Because I was too!" she produced a card from inside her own sleeve as she burst out laughing. The expressions of amazement and disapproval on both Cullen and Dorian's faces was priceless.

"Don't tell Varric," she added with a wink.

 **[A/N Now that summer is coming to an end I am hoping that I will get back into the swing of more regular updates. It's definitely been an eventful and busy one. Thank you for reading so far.**

 **"Do you feel cold and lost in desperation? You build up hope, but failure's all you've known. Remember all the sadness and frustration. And let it go. Let it go." RIP CB, gone too soon. Your voice was one of a kind.]**


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